Trials, Tribulations and the Troublesome Team
by Inks Inc
Summary: Being a father figure is never easy. Being a father figure to four very different, young and wilful adults is even less so. How on earth does Gibbs manage his stubborn brood? Warning: Spanking. Now Complete.
1. Talkin' about a Revolution

A highly aggrieved Special Agent Gibbs stood in front of three key members of his team, valiantly fighting the urge to headslap them all into their forties

"No. The answer is no.

No, we don't have enough information to go on.

No, we don't know what direction it could take.

No, we don't know how dangerous it would be.

No, we don't have adequate resources to effectively control it."

So for the final time, the answer is no. Now, the next one of you people to question that no is going to be very sorry, are we all _finally_ clear?"

Letting this soliloquy echo sharply around their allocated confines, Gibbs glowered silently at his collective and obstinately stubborn dream team that were amassed before him. The team stared back, uncharacteristically resolved and clearly on the tipping point of revolt.

Gritting his teeth, he observed that Tony was still clearly sulking with a pronounced pout. Tim was shaking his head in the exasperation that only an MIT grad could muster and Abby, of course was on the proverbial edge of a full blown Sciuto meltdown.

It was his precious lab rat who spoke first, simply because, as they all knew, she was the only one who could survive it unscathed.

"But Gibbs" she whined producing her patented poodle puppy eyes. The eyes that usually melted the gruff supervisory agents well hidden heart. "We can do this. We all know we can. You don't even have to help, we'll do it all ourselves. _Won't_ we guys?" she added, elbowing her two male counterparts sharply in the ribs for emphasis.

Wincing slightly, DiNozzo and McGee obediently shook their heads in agreement. Tim had the good sense to rapidly stop his head based movements of acquiescence when the steely gaze of one irritated SA Gibbs fell upon him. Tony, however, did not and therefore yelped loudly as the sharp head slap the older man quickly dished out filled his sense void for him.

Fixing his team with his trademark glare once more, the now slightly red faced Gibbs ground out in careful enunciation, making sure every syllable was heard by his three headaches.

"In case any of you three have developed some kind of neurological deficit in the last hour, or in Tony's case, the last thirty years, I'm going to repeat this for the very last time. None of you, and I mean none of you, are permitted to work this case any further. I am passing it to the feds. They are better equipped to deal with it, and in case you lot hadn't noticed, it's what's best for the case that matters and not your egos. Now, this is the end of this discussion."

Continuing to glower at his now slightly abashed people, he added a scathingly sarcastic "any questions?"

When the three heads had the good sense to finally shake in the negative, he barked out orders concerning the handing over procedures to the FBI and stood rooted in his spot just long enough to watch his field agents and lab tech scatter to their respective posts. Satisfied that his team had deigned to finally obey him, he turned on his heel and stormed out of NCIS headquarters in search of soul soothing coffee.

Taking a few moments to savour the high levels of caffeine consumption and the relatively serene scenes of the Washington DC based afternoon, the now slightly calmed man closed his eyes and sighed. He knew he had been a bit hard on his three miscreants, but their safety always came first. They were too young and eager to appreciate that fact, whereas he, being much older and wiser was not. He snorted derisively at his own summation of himself and his team. In fairness to his point of view, managing his team really was like dragging three headstrong kids out of unsafe tree houses at times.

Stretching out on his park bench perch, he understood their desire to retain the case. They had known the victim in brevity, and he was as decent as they come. The case _was_ technically was theirs, it fell into their jurisdiction. The victim was a marine. A naval officer, and therefore one of their own. The desire to bring about some kind of justice burned inside of the seasoned agent, but he could not, and would not let that be brought about through the expense of his agents.

Reaffirming his decision, he concluded that the FBI would do just as good a job in tracking down the suspect and apprehending him, without the same level of risk, given their sheer man force and resources. His forehead crinkled in disdain as it always did when he considered the atrocious differences in state funding the two agencies received. Sighing, he called time on his coffee break and made his way wearily back to the naval base.

Striding back into his teams bull pen, he was further mollified at the sight of his two boys sandy brown heads bent over the files he'd allocated. Abby had presumably retaken residence in her lab. Settling himself behind his own desk and reluctantly starting into his own pile of files, he eventually became so engrossed in them that he uncharacteristically missed the sporadic and furtive glances that were currently being shot across the desks between his two agents.

As the day drew to a grateful close, and with no active investigation on the books Gibbs stood up at just after six and ordered Tony and Tim to wrap up for the day, which they did rapidly.

 _A little too rapidly._

"Going somewhere special? McGee? DiNozzo?"

The two innocent looking agents turned to him and shook their heads sycophantically. Tony, as per his form, took the lead from the nonplussed McGee.

"No boss, just been a long day is all and Magnum and a cold beer await" he shrugged in easy explanation. "I'm sure McGee has a computer program to spend the night with as well" he added in his usual mocking of his co worker.

Seemingly satisfied with this explanation, Gibbs gave a swift and dismissive nod and watched as the two agents scarpered for the elevator, engrossed in deep conversation. Sighing, the older man realised he was just too tired to try and figure out what juvenile pranks his two boys were up to and merely hoped he wouldn't have to deal with it at a later date.

Gathering up the rest of his belongings and with a mind full of a new design pattern he anticipated on working out on his latest basement contained boat, he made his own way out of the now darkened and quietened communal office area. He didn't, perhaps as a testament to his tiredness, note that both McGee's and DiNozzo's cars were still in the staff car park and therefore both agents must still be in the NCIS building. He drove quickly out of his space and began the journey home, thankful that a tedious and tension filled day had finally come to an end.

As Tony and McGee waited for Abby to return to her lab, Tim tried in vain to keep a handle on his nerves as he assessed their current situation. Even the light punch Tony landed on his shoulder and his admonishments to quit being such a wuss couldn't stem the trembling that had begun radiating through his clammy palms.

"Will you cut it out McTwitchy?" the senior of the two agents eventually spit out in exasperation, not willing to admit he was every bit as nervous and second guessing of their current predicament.

"I can't Tony, we _lied_ to him. A flat out, direct, face to face lie. We're dead. We're so dead they need to come up with a new medical term for dead." McGee dropped his head in his arms in frustration, furious with himself that he'd let Tony and Abby talk him into this madness. This clearly suicidal madness.

"We didn't lie McGee, we just…well, we just kinda…. technically we didn't lie."

Even as the words left his mouth, Tony felt it dry up. They _had_ lied. If there was one thing that Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't tolerate from his people, it was lying. No matter how big or small and no matter what the reason, it was a hallmark no-no. Tony also mentally chastised himself for letting Abby sweet talk him into this, and for then pressuring McGee to come aboard the death train. He was the senior agent, and if Gibbs found out about this, he would be the one who would be held most severely to account and would therefore suffer the consequences the most.

He was jerked out his self pitying reverie by the bouncy arrival of one Abigail Sciuto. "Hey guys" she greeted brightly, "ready to get this show on the road?"

Deciding to put an end to this before they could all be legally slaughtered by a Gibbs type abattoir, Tony cleared his throat apprehensively. It wasn't easy to say no to Abby, she had… _ways._

"Abby, about this" he began apologetically, "I think it's best if we call it off. Lets allow the feds to do their thing, they'll get there without or without our help and its best if it's without, Gibbs would seriously do his nut if he found out, ok?"

As the crestfallen expression fell across the gothic lab techs face, Tony winced, but resolutely adopted what he fervently hoped was a firm disposition.

"Ok, if that's what you think" she mumbled quietly.

Tony nodded his head vigorously, "it's for the best Abs" he reassured her and beckoning with his head to the seriously relieved looking McGee, began to make his way out her lab and home, sweet Magnum PI hosting home.

As the two men reached the door, they were stopped in their tracks by a short vocalisation behind them.

"Guess I'll just have to go on my own" the wounded Abby had muttered sadly.

Spinning around, DiNozzo all but squealed in horror.

"What? What do you mean, go on your own? Are you crazy?" Turning around to McGee for support, he threw his eyes up in frustration when he saw that the junior agent was capable of no more than the gaping expression he was currently proffering.

"Yes Tony, on my own" the young technician said firmly. "You guys might be too chicken to do your jobs, but I'm not."

It was Tony's turn to gape.

"Chicken?" he eventually spluttered in indignation. "This has nothing to do with being a _chicken_ Abby, this is to do with proper procedural protocol and maintaining strong interagency relations" he concluded in a very un-Tony like tone, and with an equally uncharacteristically sage jerk of his head.

Abby merely snorted in derisive laughter at his words.

"Interagency relations? Don't you mean it's about relations between your butt and any seating position you might like to partake in Tony?" she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

DiNozzo flushed and looked away in embarrassment; he hated being taunted about his many, many _discussions_ with their boss that resulted in him sitting very gingerly for a few days afterwards. He felt Tim shift uncomfortably from foot to foot, clearly thinking of his own conversations with an unconventional Gibbs.

"Easy for you to joke Abs, being the _princess_ has certain advantages that Tim and I could only dream of" he shot straight back.

The scientist had the grace to look slightly abashed, readily admitting that she got away with murder. Gibbs had only ever come as close as threatening her with the same treatment he regularly dished out to his two field agents, and even that was in response to severe provocation on her part.

"Sorry Tony" she said good-naturedly, holding up her hands in defeat.

"I am going to go through with this though, with or without you guys." Her chin was raised in classic Abby defiance and Tony knew with the same degree of assurance that he knew his own name, that there was both no stopping her and no way was he letting her go alone.

Sighing in defeat, he silently groaned at his senior agent-ship. If Gibbs found out about this, he could only hope the older man would give him time to draw up a last will and testament.

"Fine" he ground out in frustration. "Fine, I'll come with you."

Turning to face the muted McGee, he jerked his head towards the door in direction. "You go home now probie, there's no need for us all to die."

Tim faltered in his muteness, but with apparent effort managed an impressive, "home?"

" _Yes_ McGee _home._ Like you know, ET go home and all that" replied Tony in flippant exasperation.

The junior agent looked on agape for a few moments, a war of self preservation and team loyalty raging inside him. When his mouth eventually battled gravity and returned to its usual position, he shook his head firmly.

"No way Tony. No way. If you two are going, I'm going too."

Tony fought the urge to infringe on the copyright of their bosses headslap and reach out and smack the probationary agent silly.

He settled for grinding out between his teeth, "don't be stupid McMartyr. I can handle this alone; I will make sure nothing happens to her. Go home."

Tim merely stared at him in quiet resolve and Tony threw his hands up in the air in now well versed defeat.

"Fine! Fine, let's all go. We can make a night of it" he muttered angrily.

Abby cleared her throat, having been essentially ignored as the fraught dialogue was exchanged between the two agents.

Both men turned to look at her questioningly.

"It's just…well, it's just we should get going if we're going" she explained in bright tones, completely oblivious or uncaring as to the degree of rule breaking the trio were about to embark on.

Tony nodded his head stiffly but wished fervently that Ziva wasn't away on leave. Having every member of their team out of bounds and in harm way was beginning to make him feel queasy, and the tough Mossad agent would have been a welcome addition to their now negligible, _at home and in bounds team._

The car ride to the site of their impending doom was relatively jovial considering the scene that had unfolded not thirty minutes ago at the lab. Abby's easy banter and Tim's social ineptness was causing Tony to relax somewhat and rekindle his earlier enthusiasm for the plan they had quickly concocted when Gibbs had departed in a foul humour, presumed to be in search of coffee.

Upon reaching the site that they had lured the suspect to, through Abby and McGee's technical brilliance, they cautiously unloaded their gear and themselves from Abby's hearse and crouched down in an already scouted out position. An hour or so passed, and each team member was beginning to feel the effects of their uncomfortable position.

"Why is nothing happening?" a field work experience lacking Abby hissed to Tony in annoyance.

"Oh gee Abs, didn't I tell you? I secretly warned the suspect we'd be here and it was probably best for him if he just toddled on home, but I thought we could enjoy the scenic views anyways" he hissed straight back.

As Abby opened her mouth to retort, an equally fed up McGee intervened.

"Can it guys" he muttered in irritation, and for once he was heeded and silence resumed enveloping the three in its heavy presence once more.

Another twenty or so minutes snailed by, and Tony had all but opened his mouth to call the whole fiasco to a close but was categorically prevented from doing so as the air was suddenly full of gun fire from unidentifiable shooting sides and the roaring sirens of law enforcement officials pierced the night sky.

Instinctively flinging out one arm to pull Abby and Tim down the ground, he reached wildly for his own weapon even though from the sounds of the artillery being used his own handgun was hopelessly ineffective. Craning his neck he saw that the law enforcement officials were the _feds._ Led by none other than Fornell. As the gun fire came to an end, he craned his neck further and saw that the suspect they had been chasing being led out in chains, flanked on either side by severe looking federal agents.

"Christ" he muttered, running a frantic hand through his hair. Crouching down he relayed this information in a whisper to his two frozen counterparts. Watching as their complexions paled, he knew they were thinking the same thing that had caused him such spasms of worry. _If Fornell caught them here, the jig was up and they would have effectively stabbed a sleeping bear with a very sharp stick. An already irritable Gibbs shaped bear._

Trying his best to get a handle on himself, Tony assessed the situation with an experienced agent's eye. Every exit from their vantage point was now manned with FBI personnel. He felt his stomach churn when he realised they had been too busy bickering to hear the agents move into place and to react. Just as he was about to raise his pounding head up once more, a light suddenly blazed into his eyes completely obscuring his vision.

A gun was then trained on him, and at the yelp of their tormentor, two more federal agents raced to the side of their teammate and placed each of their guns in the faces of both a trembling Abby and a wildly gesticulating McGee. The oldest of the three FBI agents that were pinning down the three NCIS representatives called hastily for his boss, ignoring Tony's frantic attempts to communicate their own law enforcement position.

As a clambering Fornell made his way to his people, Tony bit down hard on his lip, willing himself to wake up from this nightmare. Tasting the rusty seeping of blood, he desisted and settled for merely wondering haphazardly if he'd been a good enough person to gain entry to heaven. As the curled lip of the now arrived FBI boss penetrated his vision, he groaned audibly.

"Oh dear, oh dear DiNozzo, this is not good is it?" the seasoned agent crooned sarcastically, the laughter evident in his tone. Turning to his men, he issued clarification as to who the three forlorn looking trespassers were and barked orders to round them up and bring them to FBI in house lock up.

As the three of them began to protest in unison, the elder agent chuckled in response. "Oh no you lot, you honestly think I'm going to miss your Gibbs's face when he finds out about this? Oh no, not a chance."

With that he trotted off in the direction of his own transport, chortling to himself as he went. The fierce rivalry that existed between himself and Jethro Gibbs making his findings of the night even sweeter than the capture of a murder suspect. He snorted when he realised, that when his NCIS counterpart was informed of the capers of his agents, he may well be on _another_ murder suspect chase.

An hour or so later, the dishevelled and morose trio sat clustered together in a tight and cramped holding cell in the austere buildings that housed the FBI. Tim and Tony slumped, with their heads in their arms and Abby looking straight ahead biting her lip in nervous anxiety.

The pitch perfect hearing bestowed upon Abby allowed her to hear the less than dulcet tones of their boss first, frantically she nudged the two mute men beside her into alertness. From the cringing looks that crossed both of their faces, they too had caught the growling tone of one SA Gibbs.

It became apparent as the voice drew closer, that he was being accompanied by a shamelessly gloating Fornell. As the two men came into view, the three caged reprobates drew a collective breath as they saw the thunderous look etched in every line of their supervising agents battle worn face.

As they approached the holding cell Fornell chuckled when he saw the ashen expressions on the kids' faces when they saw their boss. Knowing exactly what would befall his own men if they ever pulled such a stunt, the FBI boss turned to the NCIS agent and said in a mock tone of severity.

"Now Jethro, I really must expect you to a keep firmer hand on your people. I mean to say, you don't see any of _my_ men running amuck around _your_ crime scenes do you?"

As the former marine shot him a look of death, he chuckled wholeheartedly in response. Signalling to the lock up clerk to let the three silent agents free from their confines, he clapped each of them on the shoulder and wished them well as they exited slowly. With a final assurance that the FBI would devote its full cache of resources in hunting down their supervising agent should he commit murder against them, he set off to his own agencies business.

The three recent parolees stood silently stock still, in a line in front of the seething Gibbs, with not even Abby daring to look their boss in the eye.

As he surveyed his three meek looking, soon to be dead and buried, agents the infuriated team leader sought to get a handle on his temper. Forcing an inordinate amount of air down his windpipe he willed himself to make some kind of a verbalisation.

Levelling his senior agent with a stare that penetrated the deepest layers of the boy's soul, he was rewarded when the paled Tony felt the gaze and looked up in trepidation. Fishing around in his pocket, Gibbs pulled out his car keys and threw them, none too gently, at the abashed DiNozzo who managed a fumbling catch.

"My car is out front. Bring these two with you. I need to make sure there's no official blowback from this. Move it, now."

With that he strode off without a backwards glance in the direction the recently vacated Fornell had taken. Ducking his head in defeat Tony began the walk to Gibbs's car with Abby on one side and Tim on the other. The three of them bundled into the back, none of them particularly wanting to be any closer than necessary to a murderously furious boss.

About half an hour elapsed, that involved copious amounts of fidgeting from all three passengers. No one spoke, any speech was now considered redundant. Tony lay slumped in the right corner, silently cursing himself for the whole debacle, if he'd been any kind of senior agent, none of this would have happened.

Each one of them flinched when the driver's door was suddenly flung open, and Gibbs slipped in behind the wheel. Clicking his fingers for the keys, he snatched them from Tony's outreached hand and without a word roared his car into life and squealed out onto the main road. He spoke not a syllable and no one dared to ask where they were going, partly in deference to the man's justified anger and partly because they all had a sinking feeling as to where this car was going to bring them.

Their well founded fears were confirmed when Gibbs drove straight past the turn off that led to naval base and continued instead in a straight path. Ten tense minutes passed and the old modelled car eventually swung into the obsessively well maintained residence of one SA Gibbs.

Killing the engine, the elder man quickly exited the car and walked briskly to Tony's side and wrenched the door open. Physically taking Tony by the upper arm, who knew better than to protest, he forcibly removed the boy from the back seat and jerked his head at the other two gaping miscreants to follow. Gulping somewhat, they did so without delay.

Tim watched as Gibbs propelled Tony through the front door and felt increased guilt. Tony was going to get the worst of this due to his position as senior agent, even though he and Abby were equally to blame. Stiffening his resolve to inform Gibbs of his equal part in the whole escapade, McGee placed a comforting arm around the clearly trembling Abby and gave her a gentle squeeze and guided her into the house and shut the door quietly behind him.

As they entered the familiar living room, they cringed as they saw their boss place a still silent DiNozzo face first firmly in a corner. Tony didn't protest or fidget, but stood there with slumped shoulders and bowed head. Turning around to face his other two migraine causing charges, Gibbs reached out and took McGee firmly by the arm and placed him in a corner opposite Tony. Tim had the good sense to take his lead from the co operative Tony and didn't utter a syllable in protest.

Seemingly satisfied that his junior agent was going to be compliant, the elder man released the grip on his arm and turned to face his lab technician who was remarkably paler than usual. Crossing the room he also took a hold of her arm, albeit a much softer grip, and placed her also without words being spoken, face first in the last available corner the room offered.

Moving to the centre of his living room, Gibbs looked around and sighed, feeling the weight of all his years on the planet. All three of his people were slumped in their respective corners, looking the pinnacle of contrite misery. Knowing that he was in no position to be fair in dealing with any of them he cleared his throat and spoke in a low growl to the room as a whole.

"I need time to calm down, before we are all going to have a little _chat_. I'm going to leave the room for a while. You will not move. You will not talk. You will not even breathe with any greater a degree of force than is strictly necessary. Is that clear?"

As three heads nodded in miserable unison, he turned sharply on his heel and made his way back to the basement he had been so rudely jerked from by a laughing Fornell. As he closed the door behind and him and descended the stairs to his favourite haunt, he was calmed somewhat by the familiar scent in the air of freshly shaved sawdust. Picking up his sanding belt he viciously attacked the grain of his newest boat in an attempt to work off some of the anger that consumed him.

He closed his eyes as he thought of the danger his hard headed, stubborn, disobedient trio had put themselves in. One wrong shot, one wrong round from either side in the fire fight and he could have received a very different call from the FBI. He growled to himself as Fornell had explained how they had intercepted some… _technical whatsit_ that turned out to have been designed by McGee and Abby with the intention of luring the suspect to that location, which was owned by the Navy but had long since fallen into disrepair.

He correctly surmised that the rest of their idiotic plan was to arrest the suspect themselves on a ridiculous trespass charge in a moronic effort to claim jurisdiction back from the feds, and secure an NCIS conviction. After he had explicitly told them to drop it, they'd created an even more reckless idea than the one he'd shot down. Squeezing his eyes tighter against the thoughts of an interagency death or serious injury notice call, he pressed with increasing pressure on his sanding efforts and eventually his raw anger began to trickle into a diluted justified and useful anger.

Upstairs, the unfortunate team had taken their bosses stern words to heart and had not opened their mouths, each lost in their own thoughts. Tony was currently continuing to berate himself for his self confessed hopeless lack of leadership. Tim was fighting an internal battle about never being able to say no. Abby felt the tears prick her eyes as she thought of how much trouble she had dragged Tony and Tim into.

They didn't want to do it, and she had forced them too by resolving to go on her own. If it wasn't for her, none of this would be happening and two of her favourite people in the world would be happily going about their Friday evening, and she would be at home researching different uses for her own blood in carefree pre weekend bliss.

Pressing her head against the cold wall in front of her, she wished wildly that she could run up the stairs and lock herself in the guest room that was now essentially hers and the boy's could flee to the safety of the other guest room, that was essentially theirs. She closed her eyes in guilt as she thought of everything Gibbs did for them, always giving them a place to crash when some drama or other popped up in their lives and they needed him.

A significant time frame passed, and they were eventually jerked from their silent considerations by the sounds of their boss arriving back into the room. No one was brave enough to turn around without being prompted and therefore they all remained where they had been put, albeit with slightly tensed postures.

Gibbs surveyed the room once more and was assured that he was now in a position to be fair to his team. Issuing a bark for the three mutes to go and sit on the couch, he was slightly mollified when both of his boys took a perhaps unconsciously protective stance beside Abby, planting her firmly in the middle of them. All six eyes were rooted firmly on the floor.

Moving to perch on the edge of the coffee table that was placed in front of the sofa, he glowered down at his three regretful looking charges.

"Eyes up." The two words seemed to echo around the comfortable room.

All six eyes came slowly up and upon the now calmly intimidating Gibbs.

Fixing Tony in particular with a glare, he slowly launched into what would be a highly unpleasant team talk.

"Now Tony" he began, in an alarmingly genial tone "I have a fairly good idea of what you three pig-headed, disobedient, children decided to do tonight. However, I'd very much like to hear it from you, if you'd be so _kind_."

"Of course" he continued in his oddly avuncular tone, "you are all apparently labouring under the delusion that you somehow no longer have to follow my direct orders, so do feel free to stay quiet if you prefer."

With that he folded his arms across his chest and waited with an air of uncharacteristic patience as his senior agent silently writhed in front of him, clearly racking his brains for an acceptable answer to his question.

Tony winced as he felt his torso clench in protest against the hammering his heart was raging upon his rib cage. Licking his dry lips in trepidation, he wildly cast around his mockingly empty mind for an explanation of their actions that wouldn't sound like a suicide note in vocalisation.

He came up empty.

Completely empty.

They were dead.

Forcing himself to meet the steely blue eyes that were bearing down upon him, he reluctantly began to stammer and stutter his way through the factual events of their ill fated field trip. The more he talked the more he felt the intensity of his supervising agents gaze upon him.

Drawing his explanation to an end, he immediately dropped his gaze to the floor, with a final and regretful " that's….well, that's what happened boss."

There was complete silence for a moment as the ghost of Tony's explanation seemed to penetrate every square inch of the room.

Gibbs purposely let the tension build palpably before answering Tony's accounting of events.

When he did speak, it drew a collective wince and fresh squirming from the sofa based trio.

"I have never been so disappointed in each and every one of you."

"Tony, you stay exactly where you are. Tim, Abby, you get yourselves up those stairs and go straight to your rooms.

When the three stared at him in united misery and failed to move, his voice rose for the first time.

" _ **Now."**_


	2. Time to Talk, Tony

As the distant sounds of two separate doors snapping shut wafted down the stairs, Gibbs strode over to the slightly ajar living room door and closed it with more force than was strictly necessary, before returning to his coffee table perch.

Picking up where he left off with his glowering demeanour, he silently continued to stare at the slumped postured Tony who was looking anywhere and everywhere except at his agitated boss.

Squeezing his eyes shut in weariness for a brief moment, he eventually jerked the silently miserable DiNozzo out of his thoughts as he offered the first words of what would be a long conversation.

"So" he began conversationally " _now_ do you want to tell me the full story, Tony?"

Looking up slowly, the younger man mouthed wordlessly for a few moments before finally managing to stutter out a fairly dismal answer.

"Uhh…full story boss?"

Feeling his palms begin to twitch with the suppressed urge to headslap his maddening senior agent into the next earthly realm, Gibbs took a quick calming breath.

"DiNozzo, do you _really_ expect me to believe that you and McGee decided to disobey me like this, all on your own and without significant…persuasion. Persuasion of the female persuasion?"

When Tony didn't answer the loaded question and instead began his intense examination of the sofa's arm he was seated on, the twitch in the older man's head slapping hand intensified.

"Ok then, let me tell you what I think happened shall I?" he asked sweetly, in the same alarming tone he had used when Tony's two partners in crime were seated beside him.

"I think" he continued, "that when I told you three buffoons that you were not permitted to work this case any longer, that you put your little imbecilic heads together the minute I turned my back and concocted this most moronic of all your moronic plans."

Seeing Tony wince and flush, and taking it as a needless indication that he was unnervingly accurate, he pressed on with a grim determination.

"Now, my gut tells me that after some time to think, McGee wasn't _quite_ so sure it was the best idea that you three insubordinate so called federal employees have ever had. Then _you_ DiNozzo, you mocked him for his qualms and reassured him that what you were doing wasn't technically wrong, and that the pair of you _didn't_ lie to my face before I left for the evening. However, I think the enormity of your stupidity got to you eventually Tony, and second thoughts started buzzing around that pretty little head of yours."

"I also think you had, or were just about to put on your big boy pants and act as my god damn senior agent should, when Abby joined the little party. You tried to break it to her gently, probably referencing me in some manner and my reaction if you were all actually stupid enough to go ahead with your little coo, which of course you were."

"Abby, in response, pitched a complete and full on fit, either pressuring you until your very underdeveloped will broke or issued some kind of ultimatum. You may have held firm for about the same length of time it takes for Ziva to threaten to kill you for the first time of the day and then you folded like a house of cards. You perhaps tried to save McGee from the floundering ship, which he stupidly did not take full advantage of. Then the three of you went about your merry way on your reckless, dangerous and strictly forbidden field trip."

Taking a breath for a brief moment to recover from his unusually long bout of speech, the older man observed with wry satisfaction the rapidly palling complexion of his longest serving agent. Using his piercing eyes to their fullest and most devastating effect, he began to fill the room with his disappointment dripping voice once more.

"You are going to look me in the eye Tony and you are going to tell me whether I do or whether I do not have the general gist of your collective idiocy correctly accounted for, you will _not_ lie to me. I will know if you do. I will know if you try to, and I will know if you even think about trying to."

"It would be extremely unwise to make me even fractionally angrier with you than I already am, though I'm not entirely sure that I could physically _be_ any angrier with you."

With that, the elder agent promptly lapsed into a stern silence, watching intently as the ashen faced Tony struggled to comply with his clearly non-negotiable request.

Wild thoughts were bouncing around Tony's head with such force at the conclusion of Gibbs's omniscient speech that he suddenly felt his head swoon under the weight of them.

 _How in the hell does he_ _ **do**_ _that_ he thought in depressed horror.

 _It's not normal. It's not natural. It's not right._

 _I wonder though…I wonder could he predict tomorrow's lottery numbers. That new car I was looking at is back on the market….or whether that woman from the grocery store really was married to a champion boxer, or was just trying to blow me off….._

 _No, stop it. Concentrate. Concentrate damnit. He's staring. Crap, that vein is throbbing again. Ok think DiNozzo…_ _ **think.**_

 _I got nothing…ok, go on the defensive._

Pulling himself out of his head, the younger agent looked up at Gibbs with pleading eyes.

"Boss please, c'mon…does it really matter who said what or who came up with that?" he wheedled, uncomfortably aware of how whiny his voice sounded.

The only response he received was a perfectly raised eyebrow.

Sighing in defeat and suddenly yearning for his Baltimore based life he nodded his head glumly.

"Yes boss, that's basically how it happened. It doesn't matter though, I should have put an end to it and I didn't. I'm sorry Gibbs, I really am."

Tony then dropped his head to the floor, looking thoroughly ashamed of himself.

Sighing at both Tony and himself, Gibbs realised suddenly he was being too tough on his senior agent in holding him partially accountable for the other two headaches that were currently housed upstairs.

Tony was still just a kid himself really, and Abby was really something else when she wanted to get her own way. Tim, well Tim was a work in progress.

Softening his tone somewhat, he addressed his meek looking agent once more.

"Tony….do you know why I'm always so hard on you?"

Looking up from his apparent new found obsession with carpets, Tony shook his head cautiously in the negative. Truthfully, he didn't know the answer. He sometimes _did_ have a private sulk about how Gibbs always came down like a tonne of bricks on him, and the others more like a half tonne, but he had never dared questioned it.

Silently rebuking himself as he saw the genuine confusion on his agents face, the older man sighed heavily once more. He always had trouble communicating his intentions to people, assuming that they just knew what he was thinking. Making a mental note to drop Tony a kinder word here and there he brought himself back to the present.

"Tony… I won't always be here. This team, our team, will eventually be your team. Your people. Your calls. I need to prepare you for that. I need to make sure you're ready and that you know you're ready. That's what I'm trying to do and I know sometimes I can be a hardass with you but that's the job. Can you understand that?"

Taking in the extremely alarmed and crestfallen look that now covered Tony's face, Gibbs looked at him quizzically, feeling the beginnings of confusion himself.

He thought his explanation would comfort the kid, not upset him. God why was everything so difficult with his naval offspring's. Kelly was never this much work.

Answering the unspoken question, Tony all but squeaked in a very un-Tony voice.

"What do you mean you won't be here to lead the team?

Where are you going? Are you leaving?

You're not going back to Mexico are you?

Is this because of what we did?

Boss… if it is, I swear this was a once off. It'll never happen again."

Tony's eyes began brimming with sadness before he concluded his surprising reaction, in a voice that wormed its way through all the anger the elder man felt with his young charge, and into his heart.

"Please don't leave me…..us, I mean, us. I'm sorry about what we did. I am, but please don't go boss."

Feeling himself begin to gape at the younger mans outburst, Gibbs mentally head slapped himself again. He knew damn well that Tony had deep seated abandonment issues on account of his waste of space father and he had inadvertently brought them bubbling to the surface with his poorly chosen words.

Leaning forwards and very softly rapping the back of the younger agents head, he shook his head in the negative firmly.

"No Tony. No, that is _not_ what I mean."

"I am _not_ going anywhere. I'm not going anywhere for a very long time."

"I'm talking about the day I step down as the leader of this team. Besides, even then I'll still be around to kick your ass into shape. You think I'd let you run riot around Washington?"

"Besides, all that is many, many years from now so don't you go getting any ideas" he finished with a snort and was relieved to be rewarded with a dazzling DiNozzo smile in return.

"Do you understand what I mean now?" he asked gently, needing to make sure that Tony understood the reasoning behind what could be perceived as his harsher treatment of him at times. When the boy nodded his head immediately, he felt a rush of relief that was immediately extinguished as the thoughts of what he needed to do next penetrated his mind.

Closing his eyes briefly and taking a reassuring gulp of air, he resolved to get it over and done with.

"What do you think is going to happen now Tony?" he asked, knowing that the kid hated when he made him explain why he was going to be punished and how, but needing this lesson he was about to teach him to stick. Well, for as long as a Tony taught lesson _could_ stick.

Predictably Tony squirmed in response, pulling out his hallmark puppy dog eyes which were apparently lost on his once again stern looking supervising agent.

"C'mon boss…" he wheedled, all but batting his Italian inherited eyelashes at a silently staring Gibbs.

 _Why do all three of them have to suddenly have eyes like a golden retriever when they're in trouble_ he wondered privately, as he gave a silent but expressive tilting of his head.

A clear warning the pouting Tony to cooperate.

Groaning in defeat, Tony ducked his head and spoke to the floor in misery.

"You're gonna tan my ass" he muttered, feeling his face flush.

"Eyes up, Tony" growled Gibbs.

Reluctantly the squirming agent did as he was told.

"Why am I going tan your ass?" Gibbs prompted, quoting his own words to the highly uncomfortable kid.

Struggling to maintain the required eye contact Tony strove to stutter out an answer.

"I disobeyed you boss."

When Gibbs merely arched a quizzical eyebrow at his lacklustre response, Tony groaned at his own foolishness. As if he'd get away with a five word explanation.

"I put myself in danger. I put McGee and Abby in danger. We could have messed up the feds investigation…"

Gibbs interjected.

"Yes you put yourself in danger" he agreed sternly "and yes you could have messed up the feds investigation. However, I am not going to punish you for putting McGee and Abby in danger. They did that. All on their own, and they will be facing the consequences of that, all on their own."

Tony looked at him in confusion.

"Yeah, but I'm the senior agent boss….I thought you'd kill me for not putting a stop to all this."

Gibbs shook his head in the negative with a certain weariness.

"No Tony. I admit, I was going to, but I was wrong. You know that for smaller things I've held you partially accountable for Tim's screw ups. The same way I'm held accountable by the director for all of yours. For something like this though, something this big, no. You're not responsible for anyone else's actions tonight but your own."

Gibbs removed the look of relief that was making its way across the younger man's face, by adding grimly.

"Plus, I think a _discussion_ of your responsibility for tonight's episode is _more_ than enough to be getting on with, don't you?"

"Yes boss" Tony replied sadly.

"Now, do you want to tell me the final reason why you're about to be punished?"

Tony looked on in silent confusion and Gibbs felt the twitch in his palm renew its earlier vigour.

"What did you tell me, when I asked you and McGee why you were in such a hurry to leave the bull pen?" he asked in a deathly calm voice.

Tony flinched. He had _lied._ In the wave of emotion he had experienced since arriving at his boss's house he had almost forgotten his flagrant breach of Gibbs's most sacred of rules. In a split second he decided against bargaining, playing on words or in giving the angry man in front of him anything but the truth.

"I lied to you. I said McGee and I were going home, when I knew we weren't boss."

Slightly taken aback by Tony's immediate acceptance of his actions, Gibbs was slightly calmed, but still murderously furious as he thought of the boy's deliberate deception.

"What is my policy on lying, Tony?"

Not skipping a beat, Tony blurted out.

"Zero tolerance boss."

"Yes, that's right" Gibbs agreed in grim tones, "we will come back to the lying later Tony, right now you're going to learn, _again_ , what happens when you wilfully disobey me. Stand up."

Realising the "talking to" part of his punishment was over, Tony grimaced. As much as he hated having unpleasant verbal conversations with his boss, he hated even more the many non verbal discussions he had with him.

Standing up obediently he watched in mounting panic as Gibbs also stood and reached for something that was secreted under the coffee table he had been using as a lecturing perch while he grilled Tony.

When he saw the large, oak paddle that was now firmly housed in the right hand of his boss, Tony's eyes grew wide.

He knew that paddle.

He _hated_ that paddle.

He hardly _ever_ got that paddle.

Damn, Gibbs was definitely as mad as he'd ever been in a long time.

"Boss" he squeaked "please….you…uhh, you usually always use your belt?"

Gibbs surveyed the rounded eyes of his young agent and sighed. He knew how much Tony hated this paddle, and he knew how much McGee would hate it when his turn came. It left a throbbing pain across its victim's backside for days after its initial sting was felt. The belt, on the other hand, carried more of a searing sting when it was first felt, but it wore off a lot quicker than the heavy wooden implement he clutched.

"I think your actions tonight call for a more _lasting_ impression to be made upon you, don't you Tony?"

The younger of the two men, throwing caution to the wind in the face of the deadly instrument he was faced with, broke out into full on pleading.

"Boss please, not the paddle. I swear it'll never ever happen again. I'll mow your lawn, I'll be nice to McGee and I'll do all the background checks on your next wife, just please not that."

Gibbs fought to keep the corners of his mouth from turning up at the wife jab that would usually earn Tony a headslap, but in this instance seemed so out of context with the situation it was just funny.

"Tony, if you can look me in the eye and tell me honestly, that you don't deserve this, it won't happen."

As Tony looked his boss in the eye for a brief second, he didn't even bother to open his mouth to try and convince either himself or his boss that he didn't deserve it. He _did_ deserve it. He just didn't like it. Dropping his head in defeat, he studied his feet in silence.

Seeing that the kid was capable of no more than standing in front of him like a shelter dog seeking its forever home, he sighed.

Striding over to the muted Tony he gently took him by the upper arm and led him to the end of his sofa. His sofa had a high arm rest that had born the weight of Tony many times before as he bent over it to be illuminated as to error of his ways.

Releasing his grip on the subdued agent, he motioned towards the sofa arm.

"Over please, Tony" he said simply, but there was no disguising that it was an order.

When his miscreant merely stared at him with his morose puppy eyes, he suddenly wished he was still drinking himself into a stupor on the sandy beaches of Mexico.

"Over Tony" he repeated firmly, "you either do it yourself, or I put you over. It's entirely up to you."

Realising there was just no way out of his heinous position, the younger man reluctantly bent over the upraised arm of the sofa, quickly settling into the familiar position. He closed his eyes in despair when he heard Gibbs move into the equally familiar position behind him. When the strong hand of the elder man came down on the small of his back, he fought to control his breathing. It was just pain, it would be over soon, and that would be that he told himself frantically.

As the elder agent placed his hand down on the draped over Tony's back he grimaced. Thinking briefly that this was probably karmic revenge for all the times he'd exasperated Mike Franks, he steeled himself for what he had to do. Drawing back the hand that contained the paddle in a firm grip, he raised it high into the air and brought it down with a deathly crack against the jeans clad backside of the younger man. The sound echoed like gunfire in the otherwise silent room.

It took Tony a millisecond to register the pain, before the habitual yelp left his throat and he bucked under his hand.

Strengthening his hold on his squirming agent as he always did after the first swat, Gibbs raised the paddle high once more. The second swat landed in alarming proximity to the first, and would continue to do so as the size of the wooden paddle essentially covered half of Tony's backside in one thwack.

Raising the implement high once more, he brought the third stroke down heavily and soon settled into a rhythm, letting the pain peak between each lick, whilst not allowing enough time for it to subside.

Tony gasped as the searing pain of the paddle spread rapidly across his backside as his boss laid into him. If ever he needed a reminder about why he hated the god damned instrument of doom so much, this was it. Besides the loud yelp he'd let out when the first blow of the paddle came down, he was trying his best to take his well earned punishment quietly.

His resolve to do so was tested when the heavy oak came down hard and fast time and time again, as soon as the thought he just about stand the pain that was coating his rear, another lick came down and quickly dissuaded of him of that notion.

When he felt the pressure on the small of his back increase, and his torso being tipped forward in response, he couldn't help but let out a loud whimper.

Being tipped forward like that meant only one thing, it was sit spots time. Sure enough, the paddle came down with sniper precision on the tender curve where his upper thighs met his wounded backside.

Tears immediately sprang up in his eyes, and with the succession of another lick, they began flowing freely down his face. As another two or three thwacks rained down on the sensitive area, Tony abandoned all pretence of stoicism.

He began howling. He began howling loudly.

He began squirming. He began squirming fiercely.

Gibbs closed his eyes as the sounds of his would be son's wailing pierced his heart. It took all the resolve and strength he had to keep the boy in position, and to continue placing well aimed swat after swat upon his vulnerable rear end. As he began a fresh cycle of methodically placed licks he grimaced as he felt Tony's torso go limp under his hand, and the howling he had been producing, turned to quiet sobbing.

He groaned inwardly when he felt the young man's body heave with the effort of his silent crying.

Landing two or three more unyielding swats on the centre of the upturned backside, he placed the paddle down and gently pulled and ordered Tony up off the couch.

As the red faced and bleary eyed kid eventually stood and turned to face him, he winced at the sight of both his watery eyes and his repentant expression. Nearly wavering in the resolve he required for the progression of Tony's punishment, he sternly reminded himself that he could have been indentifying the kids body in some god awful morgue had things turned south with their ill fated little jaunt.

Pulling his face into his trademark stern expression, he ordered the saddened boy to place his hands on his head. The look of raw surprise, that quickly turned into increased misery that crossed Tony's face made him wince. He was relieved when after a brief and silent consideration, his agent did as he was told with no argument, clearly aware of what was coming next.

Quickly, he reached down and unbuttoned and unzipped Tony's jeans. Spinning him around gently, he placed him carefully back over the arm of the sofa he had just vacated before moving back to pull down his jeans and boxers to his knees, in an effort to preserve to his modesty. Tony made no response to this other than to resume his silent crying.

Stepping back and picking up the paddle once more, Gibbs cast a quick eye over the kid's bare backside. It was a gleaming crimson, but nothing Tony wouldn't recover from. Bracing himself and placing his hand back on the small of his agents back, the elder of the two drew the paddle back once more. As the lick crashed down on Tony's bare rear he winced with Tony as he yelped. Pulling himself together he set about dishing out the remainder of the boy's punishment, wishing to bring it to a close as quickly as possible.

Tony didn't fight, or wail or attempt to escape his position. He merely lay limp, sobbing quietly into his arms. As the paddle came down over and over again he swore to himself to never, ever get in trouble like this again. He was so consumed in dealing with the fire that tore across his rear and his thoughts that he wasn't aware immediately, that his discipline had come to an end and the onslaught of swats had stopped.

As Gibbs crouched down beside Tony, the paddle long since flung onto nearby chair, he rubbed one hand across his back in comforting circles and one hand through the tousled hair of his still sobbing agent. He stayed crouched like that for a considerable period of time, completely ignoring the pain that was radiating through his own legs in protest at the uncomfortable position. He murmured words of reassurance and forgiveness into the younger mans ears, and waited patiently for the sobbing to tone out into sniffling.

Eventually, Tony had calmed down considerably and made to stand up. Gibbs stood up with him and busied himself with pushing the coffee table that had been set askew, back into place with much more fuss than was necessary so as to give Tony time and privacy to pull his pants back up to their original position. When he heard the muted whimper that told him the jeans had been placed over a glowing red bottom, only then did he turn around.

If DiNozzo men were vain, which of course they were, Tony would have been horrified by his own appearance had he seen it. His face was blotchy and red, his eyes were bleary and his salon perfect hair was a shell of its former self. He eventually desisted with rubbing his eyes and peeked over his hands at his boss, who was watching him fondly.

"I'm sorry boss, it'll never happen again" he croaked out, his throat sore from all his crying.

Gibbs merely beckoned him over to him silently, with a crooked finger motion.

Tony obeyed slowly, looking hilariously apprehensive.

When the boy was close enough to him, he reached out and pulled him into a tight embrace. Predictably, Tony melted into his boss's arms for their ritualised post-punishment hug. The height difference between the two meant that Tony could comfortably rest his mussed up head on Gibbs's shoulder. When the two men eventually broke apart, the ghost of the trademark DiNozzo grin was playing on the younger mans lips.

Seeing this, the older man arched an eyebrow.

"Something funny Tony?" he questioned.

"No, nothing boss….it's just, well it's just you're wearing that aftershave I gave you for Christmas even though you said you'd never wear something I wear."

"Yet, you are" he added smirking.

Gibbs rolled his eyes and snorted. Of all the things he'd ever said after having his backside warmed, this was the strangest, and yet, it was classically Tony.

"It was the first thing I grabbed after I showered" he muttered sheepishly as he appraised the gloating look on the kid's face.

Snorting again, Gibbs willed himself to finish up with Tony and prayed to god he'd find the strength to deal with Tim, and then with Abby.

Disciplining one of his people always took it out of him, the thoughts of having to repeat similar scenes two more times made his stomach churn.

"Ok Tony, you're completely forgiven for your disobedience tonight. We don't ever need to speak of it again ok?"

He smiled warmly as the sandy brown head bobbed up and down in relieved agreement.

"However" he pressed on, "we still need to deal with the issue of your lying to me."

He sighed sadly as he saw the look that crossed Tony's face and as the kid's hands flew back to cover his freshly paddled backside protectively.

"No Tony" he quickly reassured the horrified younger man "your butt is off limits for this one."

Relief and confusion just stared back at him.

"You know my feelings on lying Tony. I do not tolerate it, not for any reason. Now, to your credit you very rarely do it, in fact I can't even remember the last time that you did. However, you're not going to think about doing it again after you spend the next month going from work to home and back again. Nowhere else, because you Tony, are completely grounded. That means no movie premiers, no dates, no hanging out with your college buddies when they're in town and no football games. Is that clear?"

When the young agent stared at him in horror, Gibbs waited patiently for the internal battle he knew was going on inside Tony's head to subside. Eventually, the battle came to an end with self preservation clearly winning out over liberty, as Tony gave an affirmative jerk of his head. Albeit a very sulky one.

"I don't need to tell you what will happen if I find out that you've broken your grounding Tony, do I?" asked the elder agent sternly, not even wanting to think about what he would do if Tony was foolish enough to do so.

"No boss, you don't. Plus, I don't have a death wish so it shouldn't be an issue" came the pouting reply.

Chucking, Gibbs tousled the young agent's hair affectionately and pulled him into another hug, feeling relief when Tony again returned the embrace wholeheartedly.

"Good man Tony, I'm really proud of how you took your punishment tonight buddy. Why don't you go on upstairs now and get ready for bed?"

Tony's eyes lit up at the thoughts of a sleepover at his boss's place, causing the older man to chortle in affection.

"Oh and Tony?"

"Yes boss?"

Gesturing the paddle that lay menacingly on the nearby chair, Gibbs said wearily "send Tim down for his, would you please."

Nodding sadly, Tony knew there was no point in making a plea to the older man to go easy on McGee. He instead made his way towards the door before turning around and asking a burning question of the now exhausted looking Gibbs.

"Uh boss?"

"Yeah kiddo?"

"How did….how did you _know_ how it all happened tonight? Are you like, a closeted psychic or something?"

Gibbs laughed quietly, and looked up from the armchair he had thrown himself in.

"A psychic? Nope."

"A father? Yup."

"Go on now, away to bed with you."


	3. Penance and the Probie

Tim looked up from his bed based foetal position as Tony entered their room gingerly.

"How bad was it?" he squeaked. "Please tell me you didn't get it worse because of Abby and me, I'll tell Gibbs the truth Tony honestly, I will."

Setting himself down on his bed with extreme care, and letting out a hiss, Tony rolled his eyes.

"Calm down McScreechy, I didn't get it any worse because of you two."

Tim nodded in relief, but his face soon took on an anxious hue.

"It's my turn now, isn't it?"

Unable to bring himself to mock the younger man, Tony looked at him sympathetically.

"Yeah Tim, it is. Listen to me, you'll be ok. It'll be over before you know it" he soothed, not really believing what he was saying, he'd certainly felt every minute of his conversation with their angry boss.

Nodding, McGee unfurled his embryonic posture and made to walk to the door when he suddenly stopped and plopped down on Tony's bed.

"I can't..I can't Tony, the last time he…well, it was bad…I can't, no.. I just can't"

Sighing, the older of the two raised himself off the bed with a wince and uncharacteristically threw a comforting arm around the panicking probie.

"McGee. Stop. Just breathe. It'll be ok, I know it's scary and everything but it's more the thoughts of it that's making you panic than the actual thing. It'll be done and then it never needs to be thought of again. What we did tonight, it was out of line, and that's coming from _me._ So, just take a deep breath and go on down. Don't make it worse by making the boss come up here and get you."

Tim nodded once more and made to stand, before his face flushed.

"What McGee?" asked Tony with surprising gentleness, seeing the burst of colour on the agents face.

"It's just…well, uhh…"

"Spit it out, Tim."

"Did you cry?" came the mumbled question from a now beetroot McGee.

"Like a baby" answered Tony immediately, knowing that the real question the younger man was asking was _is it ok to cry?._

When Tim gave another tentative nod, Tony prodded him gently off the bed.

"Just go and get it over with probie. I'll be here for when you get back, go on now."

This time Tim made it all the way to and out the door, and Tony could very faintly hear him plodding down the stairs. He winced at the thoughts of how McGee would react when he saw that damned paddle. He had decided against pre warning him about it because he didn't think Tim would be capable of facing the music through his own will if he did.

Lying down on his bed he rubbed his smarting backside and thought about how Abby was faring, wondering was it worth the risk to sneak down the hall to her room and check in on her. Feeling the sting that still clung to his rear he decided against it. Rolling over to lay on his stomach, the relief of the whole debacle being over washed over him and he began to feel the distant lull of sleep overtake him.

As Tim came to a halt outside the living room door, he took his senior agents advice and drew in a great shuddering breath before squaring his shoulders and pushing the door open and stepping into the awaiting room.

Gibbs looked up from his somewhat slumped position in his armchair at the sound of his junior agent entering. He was just about to go up and get the boy if he hadn't arrived, growing irritated at the lengthy delay. When he saw the paled complexion and jittery stance of his agent however, his stern face softened.

"Hey Tim" he said quietly, appraising the man with his x-ray stare.

"Hey boss" came the nervous and sad reply as the shuffling increased tenfold.

Pointing to a chair facing opposite his own, he watched silently as Tim obeyed and lowered himself into it, his gaze darting furtively, clearly not wanting to meet the eyes of his supervising agent.

Fixing him with a glare as he remembered what could have become of the introverted tech specialist he cared so much for, he waited until the boy was squirming to his satisfaction before he opened his mouth.

"You let me down me tonight. I expect better from you."

The sentences were so short, so to the point and so loaded that Tim visibly flinched, before nodding his head in regretful agreement.

"You're supposed to be the responsible one Tim. Hell, I expect this crap from Tony and sometimes even Abby, but you..I thought you had more sense."

The young agent looked at him with eyes brimful of guilt.

"I'm sorry boss, I screwed up. It'll never happen again, I promise" he murmured in response, uncomfortable with hearing the whinging tone in his voice.

Smiling a small smile for a moment, Gibbs arched an eyebrow at his usually pristinely behaved agent.

"Don't make promises you can't keep kid, lord knows you three will get into something else before long, quicker still when Ziva gets back."

Tim grinned slightly.

Boss man had a point.

The grin quickly slipped off his face when he heard the words that fell out of the elder agent's mouth next.

"I don't think there's any point in lecturing you about you did and the danger you put yourself in, you know what you did and why I'm so angry. I will be _demonstrating_ my displeasure about that behaviour in a moment. However, I _would_ like to know since _when_ do you think it's ok to lie to me Tim?"

As Tim opened and shut his mouth like a particularly playful goldfish, Gibbs sighed. It was always extremely difficult to find the resolve he needed to discipline his junior agent. Partially due to the fact that he took any punishment much harder than Tony did, and partially due to the fact that he was so rarely in trouble that the older man didn't have all that much past experience to fall back on with him.

Finally, the MIT grad managed to stammer and stutter out an acceptable answer.

"I don't think it's ok to lie to you boss. I swear, I don't and I'm really sorry that we did. I feel extremely bad about it and that is something that I _can_ promise will never happen again."

Instantly believing his sincere looking agent, Gibbs nodded his head in acceptance of the apology and fought against the urge to pull the morose kid into a tight hug and forego the paddling that was hanging over his head like an executioner's guillotine. However, he knew there was simply no way he could let Tim go without the same repercussions Tony had suffered through, it wouldn't be fair to either the junior or senior agent to do so.

"Like I told Tony, we will come back to the lying. First of all, I need to deal with the blatant disobedience, life risking behaviour and the interference with a federal investigation. Do I make myself clear regarding what I mean on each of these points Tim?"

Gibbs's voice had taken on the hard tone it always did when he was about to draw the verbal portion of his unconventional discipline sessions to a close, and adopt other, much more unpleasant forms of non verbal communication.

Dropping his head to the floor, McGee squirmed uncomfortably.

"Yes boss" he replied quietly.

 _It really does sound bad when you put it like that_ he thought to himself, mentally kicking himself for his complete and utter stupidity.

"Stand up Tim."

The order came as the elder agent himself stood and reached down beside his armchair for something that the younger agent couldn't see from his now upright vantage point.

As the elder of the two straightened up, Tim got his first clear view of what was clutched in his boss's hand.

He backed away quickly, holding up his hands in a hopefully placating gesture.

At the arching of the notorious Gibbs eyebrow, he couldn't help but let out a strangled squeal of protest.

"No boss, please don't. Not that, please not that. I'll do whatever you want. I won't argue with Tony, I'll fix your computer and I'll even write a programme that distorts your finances so you don't have to pay so much alimony to all your ex wives."

Gibbs couldn't help it this time, his face broke into a genuine smile and he snorted somewhat.

 _God my two are more like than they'll ever know_ he thought to himself in surprising amusement.

Striving to resume and retain his stern composition, he put considerable effort into the glare he levelled at the now poodle eyed McGee.

 _Great, more of the shelter dog eyes_ he thought sadly and briefly, before verbally addressing the horrified agent before him.

"Tim. I know you hate this, and I hate doing this. However, we are where we are and the actions of you three put us here. This isn't going to be pleasant, I know that, but you've brought this on yourself. Can you understand that?"

When the young agent merely continued to stare in abject misery at the paddle he held in his hands, Gibbs closed his eyes as a great wave of weariness washed over him.

"Kid, I could have been identifying you three in the morgue tonight. It could easily have happened, in a split second, it could so easily have happened."

Feeling a catch in his own throat as he thought of the possibility once more, Gibbs added in a very quiet, un-Gibbs like voice, so quiet and unusual, that McGee had to strain to catch what was being said.

"I can't lose any more family Tim, I honestly just can't."

The tsunami of guilt that immediately engulfed the young agent nearly took his breath away. Looking the elder man directly in the eye he nodded.

"Where do you want me boss?"

Gibbs felt a surge of pride for his youngest boy, and gestured wordlessly to the upraised sofa arm that Tony had not long since vacated.

Nodding, Tim walked straight to where his boss had indicated and taking a deep breath, draped himself over his allocated perch. Steadying himself with his hands, he involuntarily winced as he heard Gibbs take up his position behind him and as the hand came down on the small of his back.

He closed his eyes in nervous anticipation, he had felt this paddle only once before and even at that it was a most unpleasantly memorable experience. He couldn't believe he was actually in a position where he was actually wishing for the sting of his boss's much more familiar belt.

As he rested his hand down on one of his people's backs for the second time that night, the supposedly invincible Jethro stifled a protesting groan. He would rather be doing anything and everything than what he was about to do.

He reminded himself sternly that the young man in front of him could have been the victim of one of Ducky's torturous Broadway renditions, autopsy style, had anything gone awry. With this in mind, he raised the paddle high and brought down the first lick of the second lesson that the wooden instrument would teach that night.

Predictably, Tim let out an impressively high pitched squeal as his brain registered the pain that tore across his backside. He was always the more vocal of the two boys whenever they had earned themselves a trip into off-the-books territory.

Tightening his hold on his already squirming tech genius, Gibbs quickly settled into a rhythm and just as he had with his oldest, allowed just enough time between each thwack for the pain to peak but not to subside.

Tim was openly crying within the time it took to dish out the first few swats, and the strings of the older man's very well hidden heart twinged. Steeling himself, he kept a taut hold of the younger man's back and continued to deliver his extremely well earned punishment.

He didn't lecture or scold as he warmed his agent's backside, and the only sounds to be heard in the room were the whimpers from the repentant McGee and the short, sharp cracks of the paddle coming down fast and hard against a jeans clad posterior.

As he exerted more pressure on the small of the kids back, tipping him forward he grimaced as he heard the crying transform into sobbing. Setting about bringing the paddle down with military accuracy on the tender sit spots of the young man, Gibbs had a hard time in keeping the vigorously squirming McGee in position.

Applying an appreciable amount of licks on the sensitive area, he landed one last token swat across both cheeks of Tim's presumably throbbing backside before setting the paddle down and gently pulling the kid up from his draped over position.

The kid's face was flushed, his green eyes were watery and red rimmed and each of these facts cut a little deeper into the resolve of the elder agent. Pulling himself together, he ordered the silently crying McGee to put his hands on his head. The slightly widened eyes of the younger agent told him that he understood what was going to happen next, and he breathed in relief when Tim didn't fight him and merely did as he was told.

Quickly unfastening and unzipping his jeans as he had Tony's, Gibbs quickly placed the kid back over the sofa arm and reached back to pull his jeans and boxers down to his knees. Casting an experienced eye over the ruby red backside attaching to his junior agent, he noted that like the reprobate upstairs, it was nothing he wouldn't recover from.

Picking up the paddle once more, whilst simultaneously wishing he could throw it in the fire, he dropped his free hand on the small of the now silently sobbing McGee's back once more. Resolving to bring the punishment to a close as quick as humanly possible, he lost no time in settling back into his familiar tempo, adding a deeper coat of red to the bare backside under his well trained hand.

With a last flurry of well timed and aimed licks to the tender curve of Tim's upper thighs and rear he dropped the paddle out of his hand with a surge of relief.

Immediately dropping to his knees, he moved to be beside Tim's tear stained face as he wept into his couch cushions. Placing one reassuring hand on the agent's shoulder, and carding the other one through Tim's short sandy brown hair, he once again found himself murmuring soft words of forgiveness and reassurance to one of his boys.

Tim took a lot longer to stem his crying than Tony had, but Gibbs was accustomed to this and was more than willing to kneel beside him for as long as it took. Eventually however, the racking sobs petered out into sad little sniffles. The elder agent continued to speak in a low voice and kept his warm hand placed on Tim's shoulder.

When the sniffling had come to a close, Tim instinctively made to stand and once again Gibbs was suddenly fascinated with the ninety degree angle of his furniture.

As Tim pulled his pants back up, he was grateful for his boss's subtle gesture. He couldn't help the yelp that escaped him as the harsh fabric of his jeans imprisoned his flaming hot backside.

Hearing the tell tale sign, the elder man turned to face his now completely silent agent. Tim looked composed and calm for the first time that night, and that alone let Gibbs know that the punishment had been effective.

"How you doing kiddo?" he asked, using what his agents referred to as his _post-spanking voice_. It was most unlike his usual gruff tones, it was almost, _sweet._ Of course they never let their boss know they referred to these tones like that, for fear of a concussion inducing headslap.

Looking suddenly rueful, the junior agent shuffled somewhat before peeking up at his boss through still wet eyelashes.

"I'm ok boss… he answered, but clearly trailing off from something he wanted to add.

"What is it, Tim?" Gibbs asked gently.

Flushing somewhat, Tim peered up at the elder agent once more.

"Am I forgiven now?" he asked quietly.

Gibbs closed his eyes sadly. This was something that Tim struggled with. He was such a perfectionist that even after having being soundly punished, he couldn't quite let his slip ups go, or expect other people to.

Crossing the space between them in two strides, Gibbs pulled the silly kid into him in a tight hug. As McGee instinctively buried his face into his chest, he spoke softly into his ear.

"Slate is wiped clean buddy, you know that. We never need to think or speak of this again, and I'm impressed with both how you accepted and took your punishment, you did me proud kid."

As the two broke apart, Gibbs rolled his eyes at the beaming expression on McGee's face.

He probably ought to praise his people more often he thought in amusement, considering each of them looked about ready to pass out when he _did._

Leaning against the arm of the sofa McGee had been previously draped over, the supervising agent slipped into his mask of stern boss once more, levelling the now less beaming Tim with a knowing stare.

"Now Tim, I told you that I was going to punish you for the disobedience and putting yourself in danger, which I did and that's over with now. However, what did I tell you about the lying?"

Squirming slightly once more, and suddenly feeling every bit of his front and centre position before his boss, McGee looked up at him with slightly pleading eyes.

When the stare merely intensified, and the eyebrow began to twitch he sighed in defeat.

"That we'd come back to it boss" he answered obediently, albeit hesitantly.

 _If he paddles me again, I will actually die_ he thought to himself suddenly, and panic gripped him.

Seeing the familiar look of angst cross his junior agents face, that had crossed his seniors, Gibbs shook his head quickly.

"No Tim, your butt is out of the firing line for however long as you choose to behave."

Feeling a mixture of relief and embarrassment at the thinly veiled threat, Tim nodded his head automatically.

Deciding to put the kid out of his misery, the elder man adopted his firm tones once more.

"You do _not_ lie to me Tim. Never. I don't care _what_ the reason is, I do not tolerate lying from my people and you know that, don't you?"

McGee nodded his head in sad acknowledgment.

"Yes boss, I know that."

"Well you seem to have a little trouble remembering that" the older man continued "so, perhaps you need time to think it through?"

The kid merely stared at him in confusion.

"You're grounded Tim, one month. Now, I know you were planning on going to that elf or garden gnome whatsit amongst other things this month, but you can forget about it. You go from work to home, and back again. No conventions, no book groups, no sci-fi exhibits, and no fun. Is that clear?"

Tim gaped at his boss in misery. He had waited months to get tickets to a once in a life time WoW enthusiasts exhibition, and now he was going to be confined to his apartment instead.

"Boss" he wheedled "please…I-"

"I wouldn't advise it McGee, I really wouldn't" Gibbs interjected sternly, folding his arms and staring down his now pouting agent.

"What did Tony get?" the younger man suddenly whined.

Gibbs rolled his eyes. The two boys were always in constant competition, and clearly McGee wanted to ensure that Tony was going to suffer commensurately with him.

"The same Tim, he got the same" he answered trying to keep the amusement out of his voice, "now, do you need any clarification on what will happen if I find out you've put a foot anywhere you're not supposed to for the next month?"

Sighing and pouting, Tim shook his head in the negative.

"No boss, I got it."

Grinning at the four year olds scowl on his junior agent's faces, Gibbs stood and ruffled the kid's hair affectionately.

"Good Tim, good. Ok, why don't you go on up to your room and get yourself ready for bed. I'll be up in a bit with a snack for you and Tony, ok?"

McGee's face lit up at the prospects of a Gibbs based snack.

"My favourite?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes" Gibbs chucked in response, "I'm not a complete brute you know."

Tim suddenly shot into the elder agent's arms once more. Slightly winded, Gibbs recovered quickly and returned the embrace wholeheartedly.

"I know you're not boss" Tim said shyly, before darting to the door and casting one quick look over his shoulder, he exited the room. Gibbs could hear him scamper, albeit gingerly, up the stairs to his and Tony's room.

With a fond expression on his otherwise weary looking face, the former Marine collapsed into his armchair feeling the strains of exhaustion begin to envelope him.

Sighing, he strove to pull himself together and do what needed to be done.

Leaning back he closed his eyes and murmured to himself.

 _Ok Jethro, two down._

 _One to go._

 _The hardest one…_

…

TBC


	4. Abby's Absolution

Abby squawked into her pillow as she heard the sounds of Tim and Tony's door open and close for the second time that evening. That sound could only mean that Gibbs had wrapped up his discussions with both of the boys and she was next in line. Glancing towards her open window, she briefly toyed with the idea of jumping out of it and hightailing it back to her apartment to collect some things, and then on to a new life in Azerbaijan.

Realising the futility of impromptu emigration, she sighed and drew her knees up to her chest and rocked backwards and forwards miserably. She knew that her boss would be expecting her downstairs within the next few minutes and she also knew that if she didn't show, he would simply come up and get her. That would _not_ be pleasant.

Her heart raced as she thought of what would happen when she went down those stairs. She'd heard Tony, Tim and Ziva all lament their various disciplinary encounters with their boss, and she certainly didn't like the sound of them. She certainly never thought she'd ever have a firsthand account of her very own to tell.

She flushed as she thought of her teasing of Tony mere hours earlier about his spankings. If ever there was evidence that there was a karmic god, this was it. Striving to get a hold of herself, she willed her legs to unfold from under her and transport her downstairs. Making her way awkwardly and slowly, she nonetheless eventually managed to stumble her way out of her room and trot downstairs.

Much like Tim, she halted at the living room door and gave it an evil look the inoffensive wooden structure had done nothing to deserve. Taking in a deep breath, she gently pushed it forward and shuffled in slowly.

A thoroughly exhausted and reluctant Jethro Gibbs looked up from his armchair once more at the sound of another one his rogues entered the room. Seeing Abby, _his_ Abby look so frightened and miserable tore at his heart but for once he didn't give in and instead he merely stared at her silently.

Mentally kicking himself for his own part of this whole fiasco, he sighed in annoyance.

He'd cut his forensic scientist far more slack than he ever did his three field agents, and it had proven to be a rare mistake in judgement. One that he was about to do his utmost to correct.

Pointing to the chair Tim had recently vacated, he watched as she too, obeyed his unspoken command to adopt the front and centre position the overstuffed armchair offered.

Penetrating his gothic headache's soul with a hallmark Gibbs glare, he remained silent until she had reached a satisfactory degree of discomfort, before speaking.

"Explain yourself," he demanded quietly, arching a silver eyebrow at the flushed looking Abby.

Wincing at the brevity of the tone being used, the quirky lab rat took in a large gulping of air and resolved to set about telling the simple truth, knowing that it was the only thing that Gibbs wanted to hear.

"I came up with the plan that went down tonight Gibbs, _I did_. Tim and Tony had nothing to do with it, it was _all_ me. I made them come. They didn't want to, but I threatened to go on my own. They were only there because of _me_. If it hadn't been for me, none of this would have happened and you wouldn't be pushed into an even higher at risk category for semi-paralytic strokes" she answered miserably, wringing her hands in nervous tension.

Gibbs felt his anger deflate as he listened to the explanation his wayward tech nervously gave him. The fact that she had admitted responsibility for putting the two boys in a position where they felt they had no choice but to accompany her, despite the fact that they had, soothed his temper somewhat.

"Why, Abby?" he said more softly, feeling his throat constrict as the various possibilities of the three miscreants actions ran through his mind once more, "why would you do something like this?"

Ducking her head, she murmured through her mop of dark hair as it framed her impish face.

"I just..it's just, well I guess I thought that the feds catching the creep that killed the petty officer would be insulting to his memory Gibbs. I mean, he was a naval officer. I just felt that..well, that we _owed_ to him to be the ones to catch his killer. The feds taking point just felt…hinky."

Staring at his abashed looking forensic analyst, Gibbs was momentarily speechless as he felt intense anger build up within him. Not for long however, much to Abby's dismay.

"It felt _hinky?_ Do you really mean to sit there and tell me that you put your life in danger, and dragged those two upstairs with you in the process, because it felt _hinky?"_ he growled in a voice he had frankly never before used with his precious Abby.

The young scientist's eyes widened somewhat at the tones her clearly enraged boss was using with her. She had heard him chew out the two boys and Ziva using the same voice countless times, but not her. Never with her.

Nodding her head sadly at the angry question that hung in the air, she squirmed with a renewed vigour in her chair and under the unyielding stare of one Special Agent Gibbs. When her favourite man in the world spoke once more, her shuffling increased dramatically.

"I've frankly never been this disappointed in any one of my people as I am in you right now Abby."

He let this sentence hang reverberate around the room for a moment before continuing.

"Of all of the stunts you lot have pulled over the years, this one takes the biscuit. Not because it's the worst one, though it is right up there in that category. It's because of the _reason_ you chose to behave the way you did and the _reason_ is, that you didn't get your own way. It's because I said no, and you think that because I go easier on you than the rest of them that you have licence to do whatever the hell you want."

Abby opened her mouth to interject, but was silenced by a particularly ferocious glare.

"This is partly my fault. I've been far too lenient with you. I let you away with crap that I'd slap DiNozzo, McGee and Ziva silly for, and it's showing. Well, it ends now. It ends right now. You need to know that _what I say goes_ , at all times. Not when you _feel_ like listening to me. Do you understand me?"

Flushing, the now very subdued Abby nodded her head and murmured a very sad "yes Gibbs."

The senior agent surveyed her for a moment and sighed as he once again felt his anger peter out somewhat. It was just so _difficult_ to be angry with Abby. She had him wrapped around her little finger and they both knew it, albeit on different levels. For the sake of both her own and the others safety however, he knew he needed to put aside his own feelings for the gothic girl and ensure that she learned a lesson she wasn't likely to soon forget.

"You will _never_ do something like this again, is that clear?" he demanded, his frustrations with the girls complete lack of danger awareness bubbling to the surface once more.

The trademark pigtails swung furiously as she nodded her head in earnest, and silent, agreement.

Gritting his teeth against his urge to scoop the impulsive Abby into his arms and tell her all was forgiven, Gibbs strove to upkeep his stern tones.

Arching an eyebrow at the saddened looking young woman, he forced himself to ask the question he never thought he'd have to ask his undeclared, but obviously obvious favourite.

"What do you think is going to happen now, Abby?" he inquired quietly.

Peeping up at him through her long dark fringe, the forensic tech took a moment to answer but when she did her voice was strong and clear, and Gibbs his third rush of pride of the night.

"You're going to blister my butt, for the first time" she stated simply. Much like one would describe the weather.

Nodding his head sadly, the team leader stifled a reluctant sigh.

"Yes, I am" he agreed softly, but with the same undercurrent of firmness.

"Do you understand why?" he added, knowing that any further lecturing as to why was pointless and would do little other than get Abby more worked up about her upcoming spanking than she needed to be.

"Because I disobeyed you and put us all in danger…I'm _sorry_ Gibbs, I really am. I know how you feel about apologies, but I _need_ you to know how sorry I am about what I did and about what I dragged Tony and Tim into."

With that, her voice cracked for the first time and she dropped her eyes away from his gaze and began fidgeting with a vengeance. Gibbs knew he saw a flash of non-spanking related panic flash across her features before she did so, and had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what was behind it.

Reaching out swiftly and clamping his palms down on the twitching and wringing hands of his now clearly wound up lab rat, Gibbs held them firmly in his own and silently watched as his warm touch did what words couldn't, and Abby calmed instantly.

Using one hand, he gently tipped her chin upwards to level eye contact between them.

"What you did tonight was wrong Abby. It was very wrong, and yes I'm going to punish you for it. It won't be pleasant and it won't be familiar, but it'll be done and then it'll never be spoken of again. It doesn't change things. Things will be the same."

Seeing that his words weren't making the headway he wanted them too with his slightly bewildered looking miscreant, he sighed, more fondly than angrily.

"Nothing will change _between us_ " he explained gently, squeezing her hands reassuringly.

"Promise?" she asked shyly.

Gibbs didn't respond verbally, and instead merely signed an answer to the unsure scientist.

Breaking out into her beautiful smile, she nodded her head and all signs of insecurities vaporised.

"Ok, time to get this over and done with then" he stated sternly, trying to ignore the pangs of panic in his own stomach. He'd lost count the amount of times he'd warmed the backsides of Tony, Tim and Ziva.

Abby however… was just a whole different ballgame and he had to work hard not to let her know he was just as nervous as her.

The technical analyst nodded slowly and before Gibbs could instruct her further, she had stood and walked briskly over the arm rest that Tony and Tim had been educated over, and without further adieu, she bent over it.

Gaping somewhat, it took a brief moment for the agents brain to catch up with what his eyes were seeing. Realising that either Tony or Tim had illuminated Abby as to the usual perch that was used to disciplining his team at his home, he sighed.

Call it favouritism, nepotism, chauvinism, sexism or just flat out _Gibbs-ism,_ but the mere idea of paddling Abby like he had done his two boys over the arm of the sofa was repugnant to him. He knew that he simply couldn't do it, and he also knew that Tony and Tim would not _want_ him to do it, even though they had all ran afoul of the same bout of rule breaking.

Pulling a straight backed chair into the middle of the room, he sat himself down and cleared his throat. When the young scientist did not rise or look at him, he cleared it again, harder. This time she raised her head up and tilted it to the side in clear confusion at the sight of her boss sitting down in the middle of the room.

"Up you get Abby, and come here" he explained simply.

An inkling of realisation dawned in her eyes and she shook her head stubbornly.

"No Gibbs, Tim and Tony got in trouble because of me, I shouldn't get off any lighter than them" she replied, before dropping her head down once more.

Narrowing his eyes at the draped form of his maddening charge, he spoke loudly into the room, irritation colouring his voice.

"Abby Sciuto, the whole reason you are in this mess is because you disobeyed me. You _really_ want to keep it up?"

Seeing the rationale of this argument, the young woman stood up and stared across the room at her seated boss.

"Gibbs" she couldn't help but whine "I'm not a kid, I don't need to be put…I mean, I don't need to go over….well, I can just lean over the table…is what I mean."

Pinching the bridge of his nose in aggravation, Jethro ground out in aggravation.

"Get yourself over here _now,_ or I will come and _get_ you and you will _not_ like it."

Scuttling over to the side of the seated Gibbs in an ungraceful haste, Abby couldn't help but groan when he took a firm hold of her wrist and gently pulled over his knee. The realisation of what was happening slapped her in the face and she felt her face flush an alarming shade of red. Being upended over her boss's knee was _not_ something she had planned for this weekend's antics.

Wrapping a firm arm around the waist of the recalcitrant Abby, he felt the nervousness ebb away from him with a river flow force. Lifting his outside knee upwards slightly, he closed his eyes briefly before raising his arm high and bringing down the first swat of what would be a lengthy spanking, down across the backside that lay across his lap.

The crisp sound echoed around the room like gunfire, but apart from a slight hitching of her breath, Abby didn't respond. Bringing his hand down again and again after that, Gibbs quickly fell into a rhythm and methodically spanked the upturned backside with his unfaltering military precision.

He intended this to be a long and memorable spanking, and therefore he took time in delivering the warm up portion of Abby's punishment. As he spanked, he reminded himself when the slight whimpers began to waft up to his ears, that Abby deserved every swat she was getting and that he had to be fair to Tony and Tim.

As he started a new and brisk cycle of swats at the upper portion of the now slightly squirming girl's backside, he braced himself for the progression he knew he was about to make. Bringing the volley of swats to an end, he closed his eyes in reluctant before quickly flipping up the hem of Abby's skirt and bringing his methodical hand down quickly on her panty clad backside.

To his intense relief, she didn't protest other than to let out a very sad sniffle that tore at his heartstrings with an undue strength. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at the _"make breakthroughs, not war"_ slogans that screamed up at him from her very Abby-like underwear.

He didn't lecture as he peppered her backside with the same unnervingly delivered swats, letting his disapproval of his actions be evidenced through his unrelenting hand. As time drew on and the only sounds that could be heard in the room were that of hand meeting rear, interspersed with sniffling and the occasional loud yelp as the hand came down on the same spot with well balanced force.

It was as he reached back further to add her tender sit spots into the equation, that Abby broke free from her attempt at silent acceptance and began crying loudly. The very sound burst through Gibbs's resolve like a bulldozer through an archaic building, but he gritted his teeth and forced himself to continue.

Tightening his hold on a now vigorously squirming analyst, Gibbs progressed with the spanking with precision that would earn even Ducky's seal of approval regarding meticulousness. Laying down a last and fast flurry of swats, Gibbs closed his eyes once more and prayed to God that he'd never ever have to do this again, before reaching back to pull Abby's panties down to her knees.

This time she did protest. Quite vocally.

"No…n-no Gibbs…. _please"_ she whimpered, barely coherent through her haze of tears.

"Sorry Abb's" came the quiet response. "You _will_ learn, if it's the last thing I do kiddo."

With that the two lapsed into silence once more.

Well, Gibbs lapsed into silence.

Abby however, found a pair of lungs she hadn't even discovered at the most uproarious of all her uproarious concert attending. She cast any previous thoughts she had of being embarrassed about her situation aside, and placed all her focus on trying in vain to remove her flaming hot backside out of the reach of her sent _straight from the inner circle of hell_ , boss. Hollering and yelping, she certainly communicated to Gibbs how hard she was taking her punishment.

As he rained his hand down again and again on Abby's crimson backside, Gibbs yearned to bring the spanking to a close. However, as he again addressed her sit spots which drew a fresh bout of howling, he knew that to do that he just needed to bite the bullet and reach for the item he had placed on the nearby coffee table as he had waited for the sobbing Abby to come downstairs.

Appling a last coat of red to every single inch of the young woman's backside, he reluctantly reached out and grabbed the very old fashioned, thick and heavy oak hairbrush up from the table. Resting the back of the brush against the ruby red backside of the now slightly quieter Abby, he steeled himself in anticipation of what he was about to do.

As she felt a cool presence on her otherwise one thousand degree backside, Abby twisted her tear stained face to look back. When she saw the instrument of doom clutched firmly in the grasp of the her boss, she shook her head frantically and attempted to escape the firm clutches the agent had on her.

Anticipating his, Gibbs easily restrained Abby whilst simultaneously despising himself for doing so.

" _Please_ Gibbs" the young scientist squeaked out, her voice heavy with the strains of crying. "Please…d-don't use that…I've learnt m-my lesson…I _swear."_

Shaking his head slightly, Gibbs raised the brush high.

"Brought this on yourself, Abb's."

With that, he brought the first lick of the brush down on the protesting backside across his lap and winced as Abby let out an almost feral strangled yelp in response. As he began to fall into a dependable tempo, Abby's loud hollering and yelping began to give way to a quiet sobbing and he felt her torso begin to go limp over his knee.

Knowing that the hearse enthusiast had nearly had enough, he tipped her forwards and issued an unyielding barrage of fast and well aimed licks on her already very well spanked sit spots. Satisfied that the tender joints were as well reddened as possible, he delivered a last and cursory volley of swats over every inch of the scarlet backside before dropping the brush sharply out of his hand and immediately placing his hand on the small of the still sobbing Abby's back.

He let her cry herself out over his knee, all the while rubbing soothing circles across her back and murmuring soft words of forgiveness and sincere reassurance. It took a long time for the last tear to fall, but Gibbs would have stayed stock still all night if that's what it took to comfort his _more than just an analyst._ As the sniffling and snuffling drew to a close, he instinctively sensed that the girl had emptied herself of all reactive emotion. With this in mind, he gently eased the panties back up over her glowing backside and felt a pang as she yelped in response.

Flipping her skirt back down to its original position, he very carefully eased her up off his knee and set her securely on her socks clad feet. As he stood up, he winced as every bit of wind in his body was suddenly and very forcibly knocked out of him. Staggering slightly, he looked down in shock thinking Abby must have punched him full force in the gut.

When his brain registered the sight and feeling of the slightly dishevelled Abby wrapped around his torso, he let out a soft chuckle.

She didn't do things by halves, his Abby.

Instinctively and immediately wrapping his arms around the clinging girl, he pulled her into him tightly and sighed in relief as she nuzzled into his chest. They stayed in that position for a long time, even for an Abby hug.

Gibbs, who was usually uncomfortable with too great a degree of prolonged physical contact, felt completely at ease with the lengthy embrace and only let his reprobate go when she broke away from him.

Before he could open his mouth, she had launched into speech.

This was _Abby_ after all.

"I'm so sorry Gibbs. It will _never_ happen again. I'll apologise to Tony and Tim as well. I also know why you had to spank me and you better not go feeling all _Gibbs-y_ and guilty about it, because I deserved it and if you go off and start building boats all over the place because you feel bad, I will call every one of your ex wives and give them your _real_ address."

Rolling his eyes at the dramatic flair that was apparently shared between all his headaches, Gibbs chuckled.

"Don't worry Abb's, I don't feel bad. You deserved everything you got and I will _not_ hesitate to do it again if I have to, got it?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves" Abby replied hastily, rubbing her butt in chagrin.

Snorting, Gibbs just stared at his rascal fondly before he felt his face take on a stern appearance.

"Ok Abb's, I punished you for the disobedience and putting yourself in danger, and we never need to speak or think about that again, ok?"

Abby merely nodded silently, slightly disconcerted by the firm expression now playing once more about her boss's features.

"What's my policy on lying, Abby?" Gibbs asked suddenly, but calmly.

"Zero tolerance" the young woman blurted out immediately, much like Tony had before her.

"Did you lie to me tonight Abb's?" the team leader asked, relatively gently.

Frown lines etched the tech's face as she thought about the question.

Sighing, she answered the inquiry with a considerable degree of reluctance.

"I didn't flat out lie to you, but I _did_ deliberately set out to deceive you and that's the same thing as lying in the Gibbs bible, so yeah…I guess I did" she concluded miserably.

"I'd have to agree" came the reply, causing a small pout to play about Abby's lips.

Sighing, Gibbs resolved to get the last portion of the last culprit's punishment over and done with so he could maybe get some sleep sometime this millennium.

"You're grounded for a month Abby" he stated firmly, "and so are the two boys so don't even think about complaining" he added when he saw her open her mouth to do _just_ that.

"That means you're cancelling whatever plans you had. You're making new plans which are going to work and coming home from work, rinsing and repeating. No social life and no fun, is that clear?"

Abby floundered for a moment, opening and closing her mouth in an attempt to create a suitable response that would negotiate a better deal for her.

Eventually she gave up, and nodded her head sulkily.

 _They even sulk the same_ Gibbs thought to himself in amusement as he surveyed the pouty analyst.

Throwing a comforting arm around Abby's shoulders, he guided her gently towards the door.

"Ok then. Go on up and get ready for bed."

I'm going to go and fix snacks for all of you, that's if those two are even still awake" he added with a smile.

Nodding happily at the mention of the all important snack, Abby turned to leave.

As he stood with her hand on the door handle, she looked back over her shoulder and signed something to the suddenly exhausted Jethro, before darting out the door and up the stairs to her room.

"Love you too, Abb's" the older man murmured to himself, as he set off towards the kitchen in search of comfort food for his three troublemakers.

…..

TBC


	5. Snacks n' Snuggles

Nudging open the boys' door with some difficulty due to the laden down tray in his hands, Gibbs made a mental note to go and get Abby to come and eat in their room. His thinking being that she would want the comfort he knew Tim and Tony would provide.

He was spared this errand however, when he walked into his previously perfectly usable guest room, to the sight of Abby perched in Tony's arms on his bed, with Tim in the bedside chair telling her a very complicated science joke, which was as clearly as lost on Tony as it was on him, but it made Abby happy.

That was the main thing.

"Hey guys" he said softly, setting the food parcel delivery on the end of Tony's bed. He suddenly felt his stomach twist slightly as the familiar insecurities of fearing his people would hate him because of his discipline methods came over him in a tidal wave.

He was however, disabused of this notion fairly swiftly.

A chorus of "hey boss, hey Gibbs" rang out from his three wards, and his well trained ear detected no underlying tinges of resentment or anger. The three broad smiles that looked up at him helped as well.

Smiling himself, he looked around at the now thoroughly bed ready team.

Tony was clad in his usual post-college glory sweats and t-shirt, Tim and Abby in some sort of comic con looking attire that he didn't even pretend to understand.

"How're we all doing in here?" he asked quietly, surveying all three with gentle eyes.

It was Tony who showed an uncharacteristic of emotional foresight, and who rushed to reassure the team leader that they were all just fine.

"We're ok boss, honestly we're good" he answered emphatically.

"Aren't we guys?" he added, giving Abby a little squeeze and glancing at Tim meaningfully.

As he saw Tim's head nod in honest agreement and Abby's usual sincere smile answer the senior agents questions, Gibbs finally relaxed in totality and perched down on the end of the bed.

"Good, how about we eat and get to sleep then? It's been a long day" he offered simply.

He chuckled as Tony winced and clutched his stomach from the winding Abby's elbow had delivered as she darted out of his arms towards the food, with Tim hot on her heels. Growling Tony joined them and squirmed past McGee to get to his smores that Gibbs always kept a healthy supply of, just in case.

When the three were back in their original positions as he had found them in, eating and chatting animatedly, Gibbs breathed a happy sigh of relief and made a mental to remind himself when he wanted to strangle them all, how lucky he was to have them as such an integral part of his life.

The next hour or so slipped lazily and merrily by, most of which was spent pressuring Tony to spill about his latest and unusually secretive romantic conquest.

Gibbs rolled his eyes as Tony launched into a _long_ monologue of movie quotes, detailing how a real gentlemen simply didn't broadcast the inner details of one's relationships.

He was cut off from his Sean Connery impression, when he made to grab the last piece of cake out of the reach of a now sulking McGee, and hissed involuntarily as he exerted too much pressure on his sore backside.

Whimpering, he cast doleful eyes at his boss who was eyeing him fondly.

" _Where_ did you even _learn_ to swing a paddle like that boss?" he asked, a pout playing on his features as he reached back to rub the fresh sting from his protesting butt.

Rolling his eyes at the boy's melodrama, Gibbs merely chuckled in response.

Tony however, seemed to have been suddenly stricken by an idea.

"Boss…" he began, a hint of laughter evident in his voice which Gibbs's well versed _Tony sense_ caught immediately.

"What would have Mike Franks have done to you, if you had done what we did?" he finished, eyeing his supervising agent carefully.

Tim and Abby who had been quietly arguing about which one of them was going to represent NCIS at the next, and excruciatingly boring tech sales conference, stopped their bickering and looked up with intense concentration at the conversation that was unfolding around them.

Knowing exactly where his senior agent was going with his line of questioning, Gibbs gave a resigned sigh. Tony was like a dog with a bone when he got an idea in his head, and could pester with the best of them.

Arching an eyebrow at the slightly grinning agent, he smirked in spite of himself in response.

"There's no _if_ Tony, you three aren't the first to think you knew better than your boss you know" he replied easily.

All three mouths fell open as the three federal employees gaped at him. Tony, clearly wasn't expecting his boss to answer his question, and certainly not the answer he _had_ received.

" _You?"_ Abby squealed in surprise, clearly amazed that her favourite male over fifty, could _possibly_ have ever done something wrong.

Snorting at Abby's tone of disbelief, Gibbs merely nodded in answer, before attempting to herd the three into bed for the night.

He failed. Miserably.

"Oh no, you don't get to get off that easy" Tony spluttered.

"Tell us boss" Tim added immediately, the look of intense surprise etched in every line of his youthful face.

Groaning and wishing he'd kept his mouth shut and just silenced Tony with one of his glares, Gibbs stared at the three enraptured looking miscreants and closed his eyes in defeat.

It _was_ three against one after all.

" _Fine"_ he mumbled in an attempt at irritation, which by the looks on his teams faces, they weren't buying.

"We were on a stakeout, back in my second year at NCIS" he began "so I was still pretty much in my early probie days. Franks ordered me to stay in the car while he went to get more supplies for the surveillance equipment, we didn't have anything digital in those days. No matter what happened, I was not to get out of the car."

Anyways, I'm there sitting and sitting, waiting and waiting. Nothing was happening. Then all of a sudden, the two suspects exited the building, heavily armed with heavy duty artillery. I have one vastly inferior handgun on me, but I was one of the best snipers around and I was as arrogant as hell. Knowing that Franks wouldn't be back in time, I slipped out of the car and followed them down the dark turn off they eventually took."

"Eventually, they spotted me. That might have had something to do with the two garbage cans I knocked over by accident, who knows. I declared myself as a federal agent. I don't think it really impressed them though, the one on my right raised his weapon to shoot and I raised mine, which was a toy gun in comparison. At that point I pretty much knew I was going to die, until the guy on the left put _his_ weapon into the neck of the one about to shoot me."

"Turns out he was an undercover FBI agent who'd spent the last year infiltrating the organisation we were investigating, and I had essentially just blown an entire national operation. As the real suspect lowered his weapon, Franks came panting round the corner and caught the tail end of the whole ordeal and surmised what had happened in a heartbeat, seeing as he _knew_ the agent was undercover but as it was a need to know, simple surveillance operation, I didn't need to know."

"Needless to say, he wasn't all that happy with me" he concluded, smiling slightly at the identical looks of amazement on the three's faces.

"Happy now?" he added, snorting somewhat at the still awestruck expressions looking up at him.

"Come on now, bed" he instructed, making to stand up.

"How comes you weren't _fired?"_ Tony asked in amazement, making no attempt to obey the "go to bed" command.

"I was punished instead" Gibbs replied simply, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

"There's no way you could have served that much desk duty and not be paralysed below the waist boss" Tim interjected, wonder evident in his tone.

"Definitely" chimed in Abby.

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Gibbs looked around at them all in amusement.

"Desk duty?" he all but scoffed in response.

"Then how?" Tony spluttered in reply, "I mean….that was _big_ boss."

Staring around at the three once more, the elder agent smirked.

"Do you lot _really_ think I pulled all this out of thin air?" he asked, glancing meaningfully at the tender seating positions both Tim and Tony as well as Abby were currently partaking in.

Six eyes widened to twice their normal size, in one millisecond.

"Franks….he…..I mean…. _to you_?!" Tony squawked.

"You don't mean….I mean you _can't_ mean…." Tim spluttered.

"He _didn't…_ he wouldn't, he couldn't…..did he?" Abby squealed.

Shaking with laughter at the looks and sounds of disbelief that fired in from all sides, Gibbs nodded, unable to speak for a moment as wry amusement overtook him.

"Yes. He did. He blistered my backside. Many, many times actually. _Almost_ as many as times as _I_ do _yours_ DiNozzo" he added jokingly.

"Good" muttered the senior agent replied in mockingly sulky tones.

"What was that Tony?" Gibbs asked sweetly.

"Nothing boss" came the hasty reply, causing the elder man's eyes to roll for what felt like the millionth time that night.

"Right, that's it now. Time to sleep. Tony, Tim get into your beds, Abby come with me" he instructed firmly.

This time the now weary team obeyed, and the two boy's scuttled into their respective beds after each giving Abby a quick peck on the cheek goodnight.

Satisfied that the two were fed, as comfortable as could be expected and warm, Gibbs ruffled each agent's hair in affection before bidding them good night and throwing an arm around Abby, guided her out of their room and down the hall to hers, flicking the lights off as he did so.

Steering the now very sleepy looking analyst down the hall and into his other previously perfectly acceptable guest room, Gibbs let out a sigh of intense relief that the night was over. It had taken more out of them than he cared to admit.

Carefully placing the now half asleep Abby in her bed and making sure she was too, as warm and as comfortable as possible, he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead and bade her goodnight with instructions to call him if she needed anything.

She was asleep by the time he reached the door.

As he made his way wearily to his own room, he collapsed onto his bed and again thanked God that the night was at an end.

Now, all he had to do was make it through a month's grounding with his three charges.

Little did he know, that it was going to be harder than even he thought.

Closing his eyes he was asleep within minutes, and the only sound that could be heard throughout the house was the rhythmic breathing of the de facto family that resided within it.

…..

TBC


	6. Workin' on a Chain Gang - Tony's Escape

Abby stumbled into the kitchen first as Gibbs knew she would, her eyes full of sleep and her usually meticulously plaited hair fanning her pale face. Spying the spread that adorned the table, her eyes lit up and the last vestiges of sleep slipped away. Bouncing to her usual seat beside Gibbs and offering him a cheery greeting, she beamed at the smiling man and sat down.

In her eagerness and inexperience, she sat down too quickly and with far too much force.

Yelping loudly as the residual pain in her pyjama clad backside flared up with a vengeance, she bit her lip in automatic response to prevent anymore outbursts.

Setting down his paper and standing up to make the now flushed looking Abby some coffee, Gibbs landed a quick kiss on the top her tousled head and squeezed both of her shoulders reassuringly.

"You'll barely feel it by this time tomorrow, Abs" he murmured to her gently, hating the fact that she was still in any kind of pain but knowing that it was necessary.

He was relieved when she gave him a rueful pout in reply and laughed when she glanced longingly at the coffee pot he was making his way to.

The two ate breakfast and were long since finished and engaged in full flowing conversation by the time Tony and Tim fell into the kitchen. Like Abby, their eyes brightened when they saw the haul of their favourite individual breakfast items laid out, and after a slight scuffle as to who got to sit nearest the stack of pancakes, took their places.

Gibbs allowed himself a private grin of amusement, when he saw the very careful way the two boys sat down compared to the rookie mistake that Abby had made. Guess experience really is the best teacher he thought to himself wryly, whilst simultaneously shooting a warning look to Tony who was systematically slapping Tim's hand away from the waffles.

When the two field agent's plates were clean and they both sighed in contentment, Gibbs issued orders for them all to go upstairs and get washed up and dressed, to be ready in thirty minutes. He rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance when a chorus of protest greeting his instructions.

"I couldn't possibly be ready in thirty minutes Gibbs, do you honestly think that my makeup and skin care routine can be _limited_ like that?" huffed Abby.

"Boss, I'm too full to even _think_ about moving, let alone climb stairs, c'mon man..." whined Tony.

"I have a very delicate intestinal tract and I can't make hasty movements after eating" groaned Tim.

Leaning back in his chair, Gibbs grinned despite himself and considered his response.

"Ok then, fine. If you all don't want to be ready to go in thirty minutes, you can all stay here and do chores all day. If you _do_ want to be ready in thirty minutes, we can go ahead with the day I have planned for you three irritations."

All six eyes instantly swivelled to him.

"What kind of day?"

"Is it fun?"

"I thought we were grounded?"

Not even knowing who asked what, seeing as these three never knew how speak in turn, Gibbs chuckled and answered their inquiries in chronological order.

"Question one: It's that god forsaken out of town conference you've all been hounding me about."

"Question two: You all apparently think so, seeing as you haven't stopped harping on about it."

"Question three: You most certainly _are,_ but… I got the tickets ages ago when you all did such a good job on the Collier case and well, it was meant to be a surprise. Now, if you choose to get ready in time, this will be your _only_ reprieve. Furthermore, it's _only_ happening because I had it arranged already. If I didn't, you lot would be going absolutely nowhere."

Gibbs fell silent, wondering suddenly if he had made the right decision when he had deliberated whether or not he should still take the three to the event, or whether he should say nothing about the tickets.

Two things had swayed his decision in their favour.

One was that the conference _was_ good for their careers, and as annoyed as he'd been with them, he would never act in any way that would do anything to subtract in any way from their progress.

The second was that, today was the last day of the month, and it made sense to his military mind for the three troublemakers to start their month's sentence on the first day of the fresh four week period, which would be tomorrow.

He didn't want to admit that there was a third thing that had swung his deliberations into their corner.

Which was, he was getting positively _soft_ in his old age, and he wanted to give the trio a nice day out before they started into the month's grounding he'd had no choice but to give them, which he knew his young team would find difficult to deal with.

He was forcibly removed from his thought process when all the available air he had in his gut was suddenly expelled from him. Wincing, he gently manoeuvred Abby's arms that held him in a deathlock, slightly downwards thereby relieving the pressure on his windpipe somewhat. Glancing over her shoulder he saw the two boys exchange gleeful glances, and snorted affectionately.

When the gothic girl eventually relinquished her strangle hold on his tender bones, he rubbed his neck gingerly and looked around the three suddenly speechless headaches again.

" _Well?_ Do you think you lot can be ready in" he checked his watch "twenty three minutes? Otherwise, we're _not_ going and I have an extremely dusty attic that needs tending to."

Chairs suddenly scraped against tiles as three rose as one, and raced each other for the door with strangled yelps thrown over the boys' shoulders.

"You're not that bad after all, boss."

That one belonged to Tony, of course. Like himself, blunt and to the point.

"You're really a very nice man underneath that defensive gruff and guarded exterior, boss."

Naturally, that one came from Tim. No doubt to be featured in the sequel of L.J. _Tibbs._

Abby's sentiments were unsurprisingly, non verbal and Gibbs smiled fondly at his little lab rat as she scampered after the two field agents who were weakening the supports in his floorboards.

As the kitchen door swung shut, he rolled his eyes and set about restoring his kitchen to some semblance of order. He was done and dusted before the three arrived back downstairs, and used the time to throw some drinks and snacks in a bag for them. He laughed as he realised the three very different reasons each of them had for wanting to go to this conference.

For Tony, it was the stunningly beautiful woman who was running it. The one with whom he had had a very…passionate weekend with at the conclusion of the _last_ conference she had run.

For Tim, it was all the _doodahs_ and _whatsits_ that formed the technical showing the gathering was centred around.

For Abby, it was three hour long lecture detailing some breakthrough or other on some blood type test or other _and_ the "simply dreamy" guy that was giving the lecture. Gibbs' jaw tightened somewhat as he thought of the speaker, he was far from good enough for Abby in his opinion but he knew better than to voice this opinion.

Time passed and soon the off duty NCIS squad were trundling along the motorway in Gibbs' car with the rapidly patience losing man threatening to turn it around if Tony didn't quit hiding Tim's various gadgets and gizmos. The conference itself past lazily and Gibbs wound up meeting some old Marine buddies and spent a long time chatting and catching up with them, as after a warning talk he had let the three bouncing young people set off on their own.

Hours passed and the two field agents armed with the forensic scientist arrived back as planned and with no calamities. The drive back home was jovial and relaxed and Gibbs was contentedly happy to listen to the excited chatter and recounting of the day that was flying back and forth within the car. Dropping each of the three off at their respective homes, he smiled his rare smile when they all thanked him and scampered out. He drove home quickly and was rather taken aback by how quiet it was without the trio in it. Taking a quick shower he collapsed into bed and was asleep within minutes.

The next Monday at the office brought with it a new case that would prove quite difficult. Sure enough, it was nearly a week and a half later when the team finally sat down to their impromptu celebratory end-of-case lunch at the mall. Laughing and joking, mostly through teasing a rapidly irritated looking McGee they were suddenly interrupted by an extremely loud chorus.

" _DiNozzoooo"_ came streaming in from all angles and Tony choked on his triple cheeseburger in surprise. Glancing up through watery eyes, due to both the now dislodged beef and the searing slap Gibbs had laid on his back to eject it, his face suddenly lit up into a beaming grin. Jumping up he quickly crossed the few steps to reach the group of about six, thirty-something year old men. He quickly hugged each of them in turn at the same time joining them in shouting some kind of, what the surprised Tim, Ziva and Gibbs could deduce, fraternity slogan.

The clearly old college friends conversed for quite a while and Gibbs didn't want to break it up, but they did have to be getting back. Deciding to let Tony have just a few more minutes, he turned back to his conversation with the other two.

Little did he know, he definitely should have interrupted.

Tony tried valiantly to keep his resolve strong and his morals in order. It wasn't easy.

"Come on DiNozzo, since when did you get so _boring?"_

"Tony, you're _thirty five_ , not freaking _ninety five,_ what's the matter with you man?"

"We haven't seen you since that night you went home with that girl that actually _wasn't_ a girl."

Holding up his hands in a mock defensive stance, Tony hoped against hope that the groups conversation couldn't be heard over at the NCIS table. Closing his eyes briefly against the feelings of dread that the team would overhear and the guilty pangs of _really_ wanting to go out with his old friends, Tony tried to pull it together.

"Guys, I _can't_ tonight. I told you, I have important meetings tomorrow morning and I can't be hung-over, my boss would absolutely kill me" he lied with his trademark smile plastered on his face. It was Friday, the only place he had to be tomorrow was bed.

"That your boss over there?" his old roommate Brad Gallagher asked, grinning.

Nodding his head slowly, Tony instantly paled as the guys started to make their way over to the table where the rest of his team sat.

"Don't worry Tony, we'll explain we're only in town for tonight and that you might be a little bit tender tomorrow, but that it's for a good cause. He looks like a decent guy, don't worry it'll all be fine" Brad told the horrified agent firmly.

"No!" Tony nearly shouted, before he caught himself.

The guys looked at him in surprise, the Tony they knew would be all for wheedling a pass to get wasted from their boss.

"I'll come ok? I'll come. I'll just wing it tomorrow" the horrified agent assured them quickly, utilising his DiNozzo inherited charm to the fullest and shrugging with an air of nonchalance that he most certainly did not feel.

Hooting their approval, the men clapped Tony on the back and gave him the meeting place and time for tonight's get together and warned him that if he didn't show, they'd just come and get him either from his work or his home. Tony winced as he realised they knew exactly where both were. There was just no way out of it.

The college gang then mercifully made their way out of the mall and Tony slunk back to the team table quickly. Putting on his best performance he was pretty sure that no one suspected the sea of nausea that was ebbing back and forth in his stomach. When Gibbs announced it was time to leave and head back to the office, he was extremely relieved.

He was less so, when his boss found pretence to send McGee and Ziva on a quick errand, leaving the two of them alone to walk back to the car.

"The guys gave you a hard time about not going out tonight, huh?" Gibbs asked the young man beside him softly.

When his agent looked at him with surprise etched on his face, the elder agent chuckled.

"Wasn't that hard to deduce Tony, I've _met_ some of your friends before remember?"

Tony felt the pit drop of his stomach. Gibbs knew, he _always_ knew. Deciding in a split second to turn around and just give a full confession of his moment of weakness and face the consequences, he was denied the chance of doing so.

Placing a quick hand on the kid's shoulder, the elder man gave it a warm squeeze.

"I'm proud of you Tony, I know it couldn't have been easy for you to say no and I know it's not pleasant not being able to see them. Trust me when I tell you that I don't take any pleasure in stopping you. Look on the bright side though, they'll be back in town soon enough and your grounding will be over, and you can do whatever you want. I won't even give you hell for turning up to work in the same clothes you left in, is that fair enough?"

Tony felt his hand bob up and down in silent and automatic agreement, all the while fighting the urge to throw up. Lying to Gibbs wasn't like lying to anyone else in his life, it made him feel physically unwell.

Reaching out and ruffling Tony's hair affectionately, Gibbs smiled his crooked smile. The smile that usually made Tony beam in response, merely made his already volatile stomach sink yet another notch.

"Good man DiNozzo, ok then lets go collect McGee and Ziva and head back."

An hour or so later saw Tony staring blankly at his computer screen as he desperately tried to rationalise his situation.

He would just go for one drink and then head home.

No one would ever need to know. One drink would prevent his determined friends from coming looking for him, as they knew he would. If they did, his lie would be discovered and he just couldn't face that. One more lie and the whole thing would be put to rest and need never be thought of again. Gritting his teeth and determining to down his one drink as quickly as possible, Tony began to work. For no other reason than to take his mind of the guilt that festered in his stomach.

Some hours later he showered and changed into casual clothes, before darting out of his apartment and hailing a cab. It was currently eight pm and he wanted to be home and in front of a classic film by nine thirty pm at the very latest.

Pushing open the door of the familiar bar, he easily spotted the rowdy group he had so much affection for. Ordering a beer, he quickly plopped down in the middle of the ruckus and was soon immersed in happy chatter and laughter about their college days.

Tony soon found the knot in his stomach easing considerably as he gave one his more impressive movie trivia speeches and he gave into the wheedling of the other men and ordered another beer. As he made a start on his fourth beer, he felt completely at ease.

Gibbs would never find out. The bar they were in was never an establishment the man would dream of entering.

 _Besides_ , Tony told himself somewhat cockily. _I'm a grown god damned man, where does he even get off grounding me in the first place. Well, jokes on him. He'll never know anyway._

With that snippet of bravado bolstering his confidence, he happily agreed to a snooker tournament and ordered his fifth beer on the way to the table.

It was now eleven pm.

Some miles away and in a considerably less jovial humour than Tony DiNozzo, Leroy Jethro Gibbs put the phone down on his _seventh_ attempt to reach his senior agent on his home line. The first two failed attempts he could put down to Tony not hearing the phone, the third and fourth, well perhaps he was in the bathroom.

When the fifth failed, Gibbs began to see red. When the sixth failed to connect he felt his jaw clench. When the seventh yielded the same result he had slammed the phone down abruptly. Tony _always_ answered his home line. This lack of communication in addition to the fifteen or so missed calls that he had placed to the young man's mobile phone led him the most obvious conclusion.

He'd gone out with those god damned kids from his college days.

Hoping against hope that he was wrong, and that he was being disgracefully unfair, Gibbs punched a different number into his phone. When the answer came after two rings, he breathed in relief. At least he could depend on _some_ of his people.

"McGee I need you to run a number for me and track its current location" he barked down the line, not bothering with pleasantries like hello, or good evening. Calling out his senior agent's number he waited impatiently for McGee to do…whatever it was he did, and to tell him that Tony was at home.

At his apartment, which was the _only_ place he was permitted to be.

"Uh boss?"

"Yeah, McGee?"

"That's…well, that's _Tony's_ number."

Gibbs exhaled deeply and began to count to ten. He got to one Mississippi.

"I _know_ that McGee, just run it for me and run it _now_ " he snarled in response.

Saying a silent prayer for his idiotic teammate, McGee reluctantly did as he was told. When the GPS tracking from Tony's phone displayed him at a bar the junior agent knew he often frequented, he groaned. Racking his brains quickly, he knew there was no way he could help Tony now and the only thing for it was to do as _he_ was told. Reluctantly relaying the address to the seething elder agent, he winced when the phone was slammed down without a goodbye.

 _RIP Tony DiNozzo_ he muttered to himself, before turning back to his online simulation game.

As Gibbs pulled up outside the bar, he wasted no time in jumping out of his car and storming into it. He couldn't help but realise that if he hadn't been going _soft_ and hadn't rung DiNozzo on the pretence of asking him a question about a case, to check that he was ok, he would never have caught the kid. Casting an eye around the crowded bar he quickly spied the group at the snooker table. Grinding his teeth he swept forwards, taking no heed of the affronted looks he was receiving in the process.

Surreptitiously stepping behind the clearly merry Tony who had no idea of his presence, as he prepared to take a shot he suppressed the urge to smack him upside the head with such a force that his children would have amnesia. Instead he leant down behind the younger man, and whispered in his ear.

"Hey kid, you having fun?"

The cue ball went careering straight off the table and ricocheted off a nearby wall as Tony's body gave an almost epileptic serious of twitching in response. Twisting his body around in shock, he paled and felt his mouth drop open at the sight of his madder than hell boss. Feeling the pincer like grip come down on his upper arm, he winced.

Luckily his friends were engrossed in an argument about a concurrently running poker championship and hadn't noticed the interaction between agent and supervising agent.

"Make your excuses. Right now" Gibbs hissed, letting go of Tony's upper arm.

Nodding, and feeling the merriness of his alcohol intake slip off him, Tony quickly bade adieu to his friends who accepted his excuse of a new case without hesitation and who hugged him warmly in goodbye.

As soon as Tony straightened up from crouching beside the poker tournament, he felt the vice grip come down on his tender upper arm once more. He didn't fight it, and allowed himself to be forcibly, and yet somehow discreetly, led from the bar. Glancing over his shoulder at his college buddies, he bid them a tender farewell in his mind, knowing his likelihood of ever seeing them again was slim.

Seeing as he was about to be murdered by an extremely angry former Marine with impeccable skills.

Physically placing Tony in the passenger seat, causing the younger man to flush with well deserved embarrassment, Gibbs slid into the driver seat and roared the car into life. He didn't look at his agent, he didn't speak to him and he certainly didn't give any indication or encouragement for Tony to do so. Feeling the tension begin to take a stranglehold on his windpipe, Tony peeked a look at the jaw twitching man beside him.

"Boss - "

"One more word from you and I will stop this car and you will not like the consequences" came the swift and loaded interjection, causing Tony to flinch.

He'd been in trouble with the man beside him more times than he'd had hot dinners, but the vehemence in his boss's tone was positively alarming and it was rare that Gibbs would be so enraged that he would refuse to allow Tony to speak. Deciding to take heed and keep his mouth shut, he slumped against the door and began to feel the familiar strains of anger at himself and his actions. Why did he always have to be his own worst enemy.

When the car pulled sharply into Gibbs' driveway he was not at all surprised. He wondered briefly would the thrashing he was about to get hurt a bit less on top of a few beers. That would be very helpful he concluded as the elder agent exited the car. Unbuckling his belt, he was about to reach for the passenger door handle, to be mildly surprised when it was wrenched open from the outside. Man Gibbs was fast.

As he was yanked from the vehicle by his ear, Tony flushed a shade of red that would put the juiciest tomato to shame. Trotting quickly behind his boss in deference to his external hearing organs, he sighed in relief when the older man released him to open his front door. Stumbling in behind Gibbs, Tony shuffled slightly in the hallway. The elder agent quickly took off his coat and threw it over the banister, before running his hand through his silver hair in obvious frustration.

Barely looking at Tony, he gestured vaguely towards the stairs.

"Get up those stairs and go straight to bed. I can't deal with you right now, I can't calm myself down and you've been drinking. I left water and aspirin beside your bed before I left to get you, for that. Go straight to your room now, and I don't want to see you until morning."

Tony's eyes widened, never before had his boss been so mad at him that he couldn't even look at him. Feeling suddenly overwhelmed with guilt as he realised the reason Gibbs was so mad is that he had wilfully broken his trust and lied to him.

 _Again._

Feeling the need to throw up stir in his stomach once more, he opened his mouth uncertainly.

"Boss, please I - "

"Just go to bed, Tony."

Not wanting to make matters worse but equally and somewhat childishly wanting a hug, or a shoulder squeeze or hell, even a head slap from the older man, Tony dawdled. Upon seeing that Gibbs merely set off towards the kitchen without a backwards glance at him, Tony felt a slight winding as if he had been punched in the stomach and obediently made his way up the stairs and into his room.

Lying stomach down on his bed, Tony sniffled into his pillow. He'd really done it this time. All for a few stupid drinks. As he thought of all that the man downstairs did for him he clutched his stomach in an inane attempt to stop the guilt from writhing in it. Giving it up as a bad job, he rolled onto his side and pulled his legs up to his chest and after a while he lulled himself into a misery induced sleep.

An hour or so of sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands had passed and Jethro had finally gotten a hold of himself. Glancing wearily at the clock beside the cooker he realised it was gone past two am. Dragging himself to his feet, he made his way upstairs, checking the doors and flicking off the lights as he went.

As he passed Tony's closed door, he loitered.

Sighing and giving in, he opened the door gently and peeked in.

The kid was lying still in his outdoor clothes on the bed, curled up in a sad little sleeping ball.

Feeling an irritating pull on his heartstrings, Gibbs silently crossed the room and pulled the blanket from McGee's bed and draped it carefully over the sleeping Tony. Resting a gentle hand on the boy's head for a moment he looked at him affectionately, despite his better judgement considering the stunt the kid had just pulled.

As he eventually tip-toed from the room, he closed the door as quietly as possible.

Trudging down the hall to his own room, he quickly collapsed on his own bed and welcomed the surges of tiredness that immediately overcame him. In contemplating what he had to do tomorrow, he closed his eyes in battle worn sadness and murmured into the empty room.

"Whoever said boys were easier than girls, clearly never clapped eyes on Tony DiNozzo."

….

TBC


	7. Paying the Piper

The front door was never locked. Never, ever.

Yet no matter how hard he pulled and pushed against it, it refused to budge.

He gave up and with the panic building in his stomach and tiptoed down the hall to the alternative side door.

Giving it a forceful and yet cautious shove, it too, mockingly stayed resolutely shut.

 _What the hell,_ Tony muttered to himself as he glared at the uncooperative exit.

Deciding in a fit of uncharacteristic hysteria to simply jimmy open the living room window, he crept along the corridor back to the lounge area. As he carefully unclasped the lock at the top of the large bay window, he tensed his weight against it.

It too, refused to move.

Beginning to feel like he was in some kind of horrific nightmare, Tony pinched himself in an effort to rouse himself from his growing feelings of hopefully sleep induced claustrophobia.

It didn't work, but there _was_ some response. A response that made the young agents blood stop in its flow and his stomach clench tightly.

"Oh you're awake DiNozzo don't worry, you're wide awake."

Tony reeled around, and sure enough, there leaning against the doorframe of the adjacent kitchen, dressed in jeans and naval sweatshirt, was one thunderous looking Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

"Uhh…hey boss" Tony mumbled wildly, a deep crimson spreading across his cheeks.

"Hey Tony" Gibbs replied shortly.

Surveying the panic stricken agent for a moment, he resisted the urge to headslap him all the way to Poland.

"Going somewhere?" he asked quietly, gesturing to the plan foiling window behind a trembling Tony.

"N-no boss" Tony stuttered instinctively "I...I was, well I was just..."

"Lying to me" Gibbs finished for him quietly, "yes, you seem to be making quite the habit of it."

Tony gulped guiltily and stared down at the floor, feeling the regret of his actions bubble in the pit of his stomach.

"Kitchen, now. You need to eat."

With that command, the elder man turned on his heel and entered the dining area leaving Tony rooted to the spot.

Pulling himself together, the field agent took in a huge gulping of air and squared his shoulders before trotting into the kitchen behind his boss.

He felt his guilt intensify tenfold when he saw his favourite breakfast laid out for him.

Why did Gibbs even bother with him? Why on earth did he keep him around when he just screwed up, over and over again?

Swallowing his intense burst of feelings, he sat himself down at his usual space and couldn't help but feel the pang that came from the fact that just over a week ago, Tim and Abby had been here with them. There had all been laughing and joking, Gibbs had been in an exceptionally good mood. Everything had been perfect.

Until he messed up again. As usual.

Unlike Tim and Abby, he was just a constant source of disappointment to the elder man that did so much for all of them.

With these thoughts racing through his head, he kept his eyes fixed firmly on his breakfast as he began to eat, not feeling in the slightest bit hungry.

Gibbs didn't engage the kid in conversation, burying his head in his newspaper.

The tense silence that filled the kitchen seemed to cling to Tony's very body, even to his clothes.

He eventually finished his meal and squirmed silently in his chair, not daring to move without being instructed.

Sensing this, Gibbs ducked his head from behind the broadsheet obscuring it.

"Right, let's go then" the elder man said briskly, grateful that the boy was dressed.

Tony looked at him quizzically, still not trusting himself to speak.

"I'm bringing you to your place" the senior agent explained simply.

Tony nodded in response as he simultaneously felt his world go to pieces.

Gibbs had officially given up on him. He couldn't even be bothered to tan his backside or chew him out; he simply didn't want Tony in his house anymore. He'd had enough. He didn't care anymore.

These realisations trundled around the young man's mind, the force of them temporarily causing his vision to swoon in and out of focus

The emotional field agent stumbled out of the kitchen after his now purely just-a-boss, and tried valiantly to swallow down the lump that had lodged itself firmly in his throat.

He wasn't entirely sure how he made his way into the car, but he must have done so without any fuss because the older man didn't seem to notice anything was wrong with him.

Or, he did, and he just doesn't care Tony's mind screamed at him cruelly.

There was no speech in the car, there were no glances.

Usually, the senior field agent would have peeked furtive looks at his boss to gauge how much trouble he was in, in situations like this. Of which there had been too many to count, down through the successive years. To do so now would just be redundant Tony told himself, seeing as the team leader had clearly decided to wash his hands of him.

Moments later they had pulled up outside the young man's apartment.

Immediately putting his hand on the door handle, Tony spoke before the elder of the two could.

"Bye then, boss" he murmured in what he hoped was an indifferent tone.

No need for his _superior_ to know how much he wanted to throw up from the feelings of rejection that had a stranglehold on his consciousness.

His attempt at exiting the car was however, brought to a swift halt.

With a searing and well placed headslap.

Yelping and instinctively reaching up to rub the stinging pain out of his head, Tony turned to his boss in confusion.

"What was that for?" he squawked in confusion.

Arching a silver eyebrow at the most maddening individual he had ever met, Gibbs glowered.

"What do you mean 'bye' DiNozzo?" he asked angrily.

Gaping somewhat, Tony gestured to his apartment building.

"You brought me home?" he answered, confusion evident in his tone.

Closing his eyes and gripping the steering wheel tightly, Gibbs briefly considered the possibility that Tony was karmic revenge for the long string of highly aggrieved ex Mrs Gibbs'.

" _Yes_ I did" he growled "for you to get your backside into that apartment, and pack a bag."

When his senior field agent merely stared at him as if he had just been asked to go and place a flag on the moon, he held his breath in an effort to prevent himself from cheerfully killing the kid.

"Do you understand plain English, Tony? Get yourself into that building right now and pack enough clothes and whatever else you need, to last for a...decent timeframe."

The younger man silently tilted his head to the side slightly, like a puppy waiting for his owner to finally throw the ball.

He eventually offered a verbal response however.

"Where are we going boss? Did a new case come in?" Tony cursed himself for not checking his phone, Gibbs hated when he didn't know things that he ought to know.

Snarling somewhat, much to a bewildered Tony's confusion, Gibbs issued another searing head slap across the back of the young man's head.

"No. We are not going out on a case, you are coming to stay at my place until such time as you can prove to me that you are capable of following simple instructions and behaving as my senior field agent damn well should."

Gibbs finished his short speech with a passionate sigh. Wasn't it _obvious_ why he had brought Tony over to his apartment? What did the kid think they were doing there, admiring the view?

Suddenly his anger deflated and was swiftly replaced with a pang of guilt of his own.

Turning somewhat in his seat to get a better look at the young man beside him, his sudden fears were realised. Silently berating himself for assuming that what he considered to be obvious would be obvious to the insecure Tony, he felt his facial features melt.

"Why did you think I brought you here DiNozzo?" he asked quietly.

Tony flushed somewhat and became suddenly very interested in the car's upholstery.

"Tony…" Gibbs said with a mixture of softness and firmness.

Opening his mouth uncertainly, Tony's fidgeting increased as he attempted to answer.

"I thought you were….well, I guess I thought…."

"That I was giving up on you?" Gibbs supplied knowingly, feeling the familiar tugging on his heartstrings that no one but this complex kid brought about with such frequency.

The sad nodding of the sandy brown head made him clench his hands in anger.

At himself.

He should have _explained_ his intentions to Tony. He shouldn't have assumed. He fought off the small strains of hurt that stemmed from the fact that the boy could possibly think he would ever give up on him, by reminding himself sternly that the kid had _already_ had a father wash his hands of him.

"Tony, as testing as you are. As much as I may want to _strangle_ you on a daily basis, I will never, ever give up on you. Now, get that through your head, and get your ass into that apartment" he said quietly, hoping Tony would hear the sincerity of his tone.

Judging by the sudden brightness that returned to his headaches eye and the frantic nodding of the head, he _had._

"Yes boss" Tony all but squealed, as he hightailed it out of the car and into his apartment building.

Gibbs rolled his eyes and smiled slightly.

As murderously furious as he currently was with his wayward agent, he never wanted him to be unsure of his place in his life.

Which was a very important place.

Ten or so minutes later, Tony emerged once more, staggering slightly under the weight of a very bulky looking holdall. Depositing it in the boot of the car, he slipped into the passenger seat once more and the car did a swift u-turn and headed steadily back in the direction it had just come from.

As the car rolled into the driveway, Gibbs killed the engine and shot Tony a stern look.

"Living room, now. We need to have a little talk."

Stifling a groan at this, the young agent nodded his head and started towards the house obediently.

He was seated in his usual spot on the couch, when his boss entered.

Plopping himself down in a chair in front of a now highly uncomfortable looking Tony, Gibbs crossed his arms across his chest and levelled the boy with a fearsome stare.

"Explain" he said simply.

Tony looked up at him with a hangdog expression and shifted guiltily in his seat.

"Boss, I'm sorry" he began, before he was swiftly interjected.

"I didn't ask for an apology DiNozzo, I asked for an explanation" Gibbs stated crossly.

Nodding his head and licking his lips slightly, Tony considered his response.

"I uhh, well…I went out when I wasn't supposed to" he offered, cringing at his own answer.

The nostrils of the agitated Gibbs flared in irritation.

"I didn't ask for an apology _and_ Ididn't ask for you to state the obvious, I _asked_ for an explanation" he growled.

Shifting vigorously in his seat, Tony nodded once more and decided to bite the bullet and come completely clean.

"The guys were giving me a hard time about now going out, as you know" he began "I said no at first boss, I _swear_ I did. I said I had meetings the next day and that I couldn't be hung-over. They were having none of it. They were going to go over to where you, McGee and Ziva were sitting and _ask_ you to cut me some slack about turning up with a hangover."

Tony paused to draw in a deep breath, and surged on.

"I panicked. I was afraid they would find out that I was gro-...uhh, that you were angry with me. I said I'd go out so they'd leave. They said that if I didn't show, they'd just come and get me. Trust me, they would. So I decided to just go for one drink and then escape. I honestly didn't intend to be out for anymore than an hour, but then...well then I started having a really good time. Before I knew it I was on my third and fourth drink."

Once more a pause descended, as the young man eventually decided to be completely honest, even though his sense of self preservation screamed at him to shut the hell up.

"I got cocky. I thought…I, uhh…thought that I could do what I wanted. I thought that you'd never find out and that even if you did, that I was grown man and that you didn't have the…the right to ground me in the first place. I'm really sorry boss. I don't know what I was thinking."

With that, the field agent dropped his head to his chest and studied the floor intently. Shame washed over him and regret followed swiftly.

Gibbs digested all this silently, and wasn't surprised to feel the familiar bout of pride at the young man's frankness. It occurred to him that Tony had acted like a typical rebellious teenager, but decided not to share this insight with the squirming agent.

"Thank you for your honesty Tony" Gibbs responded eventually, wanting the boy to know that he wasn't completely without reprieve.

The simple phrase that was designed to provide some reassurance to the field agent, conversely operated to make him feel even worse. As the guilt took a hold of him once more, he looked up at the older man with a serious expression that was very rarely worn by the young man.

"Boss, you know…you don't have to put up with this. This isn't in your job description. If it would be easier for you in the long run for me to…for me to resign or to transfer out, I would do that."

Standing up calmly, Gibbs snatched up a heavy wooden ruler from the coffee table that he had been using to make a new design plan for the hull of his newest boat, which had been cast aside as he had went out to look for Tony last night.

Striding over to the now extremely apprehensive young man, who scooted back in his chair to remove his butt from his boss's target range, he eyed him sternly.

"Hand" he instructed firmly.

"B-boss?" the younger man stuttered.

" _Hand"_ came the repeated direction.

Groaning, Tony obediently extended his right hand, palm upwards.

The thick and sturdy ruler came down five times across the open palm, in quick succession.

Turning back to his seat and throwing the ruler down on the coffee table to the sounds of Tony's yelping, the older agent dropped back down into the chair and flashed a Gibbs glare at the young man in front of him. He continued to stare silently as Tony squeezed his hand under his left arm pit in an attempt to alleviate some of the sting.

"What was _that_ for?" the agent eventually croaked, a mild look of indignation working its across his face.

"Don't you _ever_ refer to yourself as part of my _job description_ again. You're much more than that and you should damn well know it. You ever offer me your resignation again, it had better damn well be to start heading your own team or because you're dying, is that _clear?"_

Tony nodded his head vigorously and felt a ridiculous bout of relief that his boss didn't consider him just another part of his job. He academically knew that already of course, but it was hard to reconcile the gruff older man with the rare bouts of openness he displayed with his team when they needed to hear it.

"Good" came the simple response.

Peeking up through his eyelashes, Tony decided to gauge the situation.

"So, how much trouble am I in?" he asked nervously.

Gibbs sighed heavily.

"A lot Tony, you're in a lot. You lied to me, again. You snuck out. You didn't answer your phone. You tried to run away this morning."

Something about that last part jogged Tony's memory.

"Why were all the windows and doors locked?" he asked curiously.

Rolling his eyes at the obvious answer to the question, Gibbs repressed a smile.

"Because I know you much better than you give me credit for DiNozzo" he answered.

Gaping at him, Tony digested this information.

"You knew I'd run? But how, _I_ didn't even know I was going to. It was a split second decision."

Gibbs couldn't help but smile this time.

"Guilt, Tony. I know you feel pretty guilty. You don't do well with guilt, but you're getting better."

Assessing the truth of this statement, the younger agent shook his head in agreement.

"I'm sorry about that boss" he said softly. "You were just so mad at me and I didn't think you wanted to see me or have me in your house."

Gibbs let out a weary breath.

"You are always welcome in this house. All of you are. I don't care how mad I am with you, this house is always open to you. You got it?"

Nodding for what felt like the millionth time in the still young day, Tony smiled his shy acknowledgment.

"Got it, boss."

The elder man nodded and pondered his decision for one more nanosecond, before deciding to put the kid out of his misery and hand down the sentence he'd earned himself for his latest foray into disobedience.

"Ok then Tony. I've decided on your punishment for this whole fiasco, ready to listen?"

The young agent nodded glumly.

"You will be starting your grounding all over again. The nearly two weeks you'd already cleared, is now forfeited. That means when McGee and Abby are freed, _you_ most certainly won't be. Clear?"

Another forlorn jerk of the sandy brown head assured him that it was indeed, clear.

"You will be serving out your grounding here. You will go absolutely nowhere but work and back again. You will do as you're told, when you're told and without calling an international summit about it. Understood?"

Another miserable jerk of the sandy brown head assured him that it was indeed, understood.

Gibbs steeled himself for the next part of communicating the punishment package.

"Because you've already broken your grounding, you've earned yourself no phone and no internet whilst you're here. You may watch TV and read however, if you wish.

Tony predictably opened his mouth to screech some form of protest. Not wanting to give him the opportunity to get himself into any more trouble, the elder agent pressed on.

"Furthermore, for your overall and general disobedience as well as your poor choices, your backside and I are going to have a lengthy discussion. Got it?"

Another horrified jerk of the sandy brown head assured him that it was indeed, gotten.

"We will come back to the lying" Gibbs concluded grimly, feeling a wave of déjà vu as he did so.

Tony flinched somewhat at this, what _other_ punishments were there? He'd already been sentenced to one month of hell and the sacrificing of his sitting comforts.

He didn't have much time to ponder this, as he heard the older man's voice break through his reverie.

"Alright then Tony, off you go and get the paddle please."

As guilty as the young agent felt for his behaviour, the very mention of that horrific paddle caused him to divest himself momentarily of his self awareness.

"Paddle? Please boss, no…please don't use that" he wheedled, widening his eyes and pulling his best Labrador expression.

"Basement Tony, go and get it. Right now."

Racking his brains for some negotiation tactic, and coming up empty the younger man summoned up his best "but I'm adorable" expression.

"I'll never do it again for as long as I live boss, I swear. _Please_ not the paddle _?"_

Gibbs groaned inwardly. Did his people honestly think it was _easy_ for _him_ to do this?

"You either get it Tony, or I do. However I can assure you that your prognosis would be substantially better if you were to go and fetch it."

Groaning as if he had just been shot in the right lung, Tony stood reluctantly and set off towards the basement, sighing with every step he took.

Rolling his eyes at the boy's theatrics, Gibbs leant back in his chair and suddenly felt twenty years older. He glanced at his watch, it wasn't even two in the afternoon yet and he already felt like he'd been awake for the last twenty hours.

Eventually he heard the sounds of his young headache making his way back to the living room.

The very slow sounds.

Gibbs waited patiently, but wanted to get this over and done with as much as Tony didn't want to get it over and done with.

Eventually the young agent made a huffy appearance in the room, holding the heavy paddle at an arm's length and in between two fingers like it was a particularly delicate explosive. Depositing it into his boss's lap, he stood in front of him with large eyes, in a latch ditch effort to save himself.

Sighing and standing up, Gibbs grasped the handle of the paddle firmly.

"Stop it Tony, you have this coming and you know it. Now, lose the pants and bend over that sofa arm."

Predictably the young agent squealed in protest.

"Pants? _Already?_ C'mon boss you always let me keep them up for a while at least" he whined immediately.

His patience already being thin, Gibbs shot the wheedling man a hard look.

"Do I need to go through all the reasons as to how you wound up in this position again, Tony?"

Feeling the familiar strains of guilt lap up against him once more, the younger man shook his head quickly and reluctantly walked towards the high raised sofa arm that both he and Tim had been draped over with horrid degree of recentness.

Standing behind it he sighed and reached up to undo his jeans. Pushing them down to his knees, he shot both a questioning and pleading look at the silent Gibbs.

"Lose the boxers as well Tony, you know better" came the firm reply.

Groaning, the young man did as he was told and his Italian designer boxers pooled at his knees alongside his jeans. He bent himself over the sofa arm and closed his eyes against the déjà vu that immediately enveloped him.

As Gibbs stepped behind his agent in the all too familiar position of judge, jury and executioner he fought with himself to remain resolute. He _had_ to know that all of his people could follow orders. Placing a hand on the small of Tony's back for what felt like the hundredth time since the young agent had come crashing into his life, he resolved to be firm but fair.

The first lick of the paddle came down with a steady force and a deliberate aim. The sound of the wood meeting bare skin cracked around the otherwise silent room like wildfire. Tony squealed loudly in response and jerked instinctively as his brain registered the intense pain. Gibbs kept a restraining pressure on his agents back and closing his eyes, raised his arm high to bring down the second of a long list of thwacks.

The punishment soon got underway in earnest, and the only sounds to be heard were the sharp connections of paddle against skin and the intermittent yelping and squawking that came from Tony as a response. Gibbs kept a careful eye on the condition of the bared backside in front of him as he wielded the wooden implement, careful to ensure that no undue damage was done to any area of the upturned rear.

He steeled himself to address the currently pale sit spots of his young agent. Exerting more pressure on the small of Tony's back, he gently tipped him forward bringing the tender join of backside and upper thighs into a more accurate view. He knew that with the first lick on the sensitive area, Tony would break away from his stoic acceptance and the first tears would fall. The fact of which made his gut contort in on itself. He positively _hated_ to hear or see any of his people cry.

He especially hated to be the one _causing_ them to cry.

Sure enough, when the paddle made contact with the vulnerable area Tony's shoulders began to slump and his posture began to slouch. When the second lick came down, he let out a gasp and the tears fell onto the soft fabric of the sofa cushion. With the third precise stroke, he began to cry in earnest, not bothering to conceal the fact.

Landing two or three more thwacks on the boy's highly sensitised sit spots, Gibbs reluctantly began a fresh cycle of licks at the top of the now well reddened backside, and worked his way logically downwards. The sobbing intensified with every stroke and the older man was having a tough time of keeping a hold on both his agent and his nerve.

Gibbs briefly wondered how Mike Franks had ever survived dragging _him_ up through the ranks.

With every passing punishment he'd had to issue, Jethro thought it would be easier but it never was.

Tightening his grasp on the squirming Tony, he dutifully continued to light a fire across the kid's bare backside in the fervent hope that he would never have to repeat the experience for the same transgression. As he tipped the young agent forwards once more to gain access to the crimson sit spots, he winced when Tony let out an anguished yelp in response.

"Nearly there Tony, nearly there now, you're doing great" he soothed, as he brought the paddle down again and again.

When the kid's torso went completely limp over the sofa arm and his sobbing could no longer be heard, Gibbs knew that the punishment was both nearly over and was hitting home. Landing a few more perfunctory swats over the top, middle and lower regions of the now flaming red backside, he threw the paddle out of his hand onto the seat of a nearby arm chair and immediately knelt down beside Tony's tousled head.

Resting a hand on the quietly sobbing boy's shoulder, he murmured a nonstop string of reassurances and praise into his ear. Time passed and the sobbing slowly fizzled out. There was a pain searing in the older man's knees due to his uncomfortable position, but he stayed resolutely put. When the predictable sniffing and snuffling had completely replaced any old or fresh tears, he felt the usual surge of relief.

Eventually Tony started to stand up and Gibbs tactfully became engrossed in removing a stubborn piece of lint from his otherwise pristine carpet. When the sounds of the telltale whimper met his ears, he knew that the boxers and pants had been restored to their rightful position. When he turned around to face his agent he felt the familiar stabbings of guilt as he saw the effect the punishment had taken on his wayward and headstrong second in command.

The green eyes were red and bleary, the usually jovial face was blotchy and flushed and the military precision styled hair was windswept and terribly askew.

He waited patiently for Tony to stop rubbing his watery eyes and look at him.

When the arms fell to the boy's sides, he opened his mouth to speak but the junior agent bet him to it.

"Would you believe me if I told you I'd never do anything to annoy you, ever again?" Tony asked ruefully, with a small pouty smile playing on his lips.

Letting out a snort of laughter, Gibbs shook his head slowly.

"No Tony, I wouldn't. What would I do with a perfect senior agent anyway? I'd die of boredom."

Tony grinned at this and the older man looked at him fondly before opening his arms widely.

"Come here" he instructed gently.

Predictably Tony shot forwards and into the awaiting embrace, albeit with a grimace as the harsh fabric of his jeans clung to his smarting backside.

As he pulled the young man into a tight embrace, Gibbs held him close and whispered softly to him.

"No more of this carry on kid, ok? I'm an old man remember."

Laughing at this as he broke away from the habitual hug, Tony nodded his agreement.

"Good. Now, stay put for a minute. I'll be right back."

Striding from the room before Tony could question him or before his exhausted will completely broke, Gibbs made his way quickly to the first floor bathroom. Leaning against the cool sink for a moment, he willed himself to stay resolute as he grabbed a fresh bar of soap and turning on the tap, lathered it up.

Placing the now foaming soap on a clean washcloth, he briskly walked back to the living room.

When Tony saw the soap in his boss's hands, he quickly deduced what the elder agent had meant by "coming back to the lying."

Holding up his hands in alarm, he stared at the silent Gibbs in pleading protest.

"Boss please…"

Sighing, Gibbs shook his head slowly.

"What is my policy on lying Tony? I know you know the answer, because you gave it to me in this very room about two weeks ago when you were being punished for lying, and when you were assuring me it would never happen again."

Quickly deciding that resistance was futile, Tony dropped his gaze to the floor and shuffled slightly but quickly stopped when his backside's pain intensified in protest.

"Zero tolerance, boss."

Relieved that the boy was going to cooperate in the first instance, Gibbs nodded his head approvingly.

"That's right. Now, do I need to explain how this punishment works or do you get the general idea?"

"I get the general idea" came the morose reply.

"Good, then open your mouth right now."

Groaning, Tony closed his eyes and steeled himself. A bit of soap couldn't be worse than the bush fire that was currently raging its way across his rear end.

Opening his mouth obediently, he cringed when his eye's watered instantly in reaction to the well lathered bar as it was placed firmly in between his upper and lower jaw.

"Bite down" Gibbs commanded firmly, hating himself as he did so.

Tony obediently secured the gag worthy and floral tasting soap between his teeth.

It was perhaps a testament to how unpleasant the childish punishment was that he didn't protest when Gibbs took him by the upper arm and guided him firmly into the same corner he had occupied when he and the other two had been caught at the crime scene.

Or, perhaps it was because he couldn't talk.

Who knew.

Gibbs released his arm with the firm instructions to think about the perils of lying and left the squirming Tony to his thoughts as he threw himself down on the sofa and closed his eyes wearily.

Five minutes passed and the elder man decided that was more than enough.

Grabbing the washcloth once more, he quickly guided his second in command out of the corner.

"Spit it out Tony, there's a good lad" he instructed quietly.

The young agent did so with watering eyes and breathed a huge, soapy sigh of relief.

"Go on and wash your mouth out and then come back down" Gibbs ordered with the same degree of softness and watched as Tony scampered out of the living room and up the stairs to the bathroom where his spare toothbrush resided.

About another five minutes or so passed and the living room door opened once more to the arrival of the much more comfortable looking Tony.

"Feel better?" Gibbs asked, staring at the younger man intently.

"Yes boss" Tony murmured in response, taking a seat on the armchair opposite the elder man, wincing heavily as he did so.

"Have I made my point on lying to me now?" he inquired softly.

"Loud and clear boss" Tony replied immediately.

"I'll be squeaky clean from now on, I promise" he added, beaming at his own awful joke.

Snorting and rolling his eyes, Gibbs felt a ridiculous surge of pleasure and pride that his miscreant could joke with him and that their relationship had never been affected by the sting of a sore butt.

"Hilarious DiNozzo, just freaking hilarious" he muttered in mock exasperation.

"Now, why don't you go on out and grab your bag and get yourself sorted into your room, whilst I get lunch going. You must be starving."

Nodding and standing up, Tony's cell suddenly rang shrilly in his pocket.

Fishing it out he groaned when he saw it was Brianna, the stunning redhead he'd managed to wrangle a date with for a "whenever" date. She mysteriously said she would call on the night she was free, and that he had better be available for her.

Stealing a glance at his glaring boss, he shrugged his shoulders recklessly.

In for a penny, in for a pound and all that.

"Boss, you don't think I could just duck out for a few hours tonight do you? There's this _stunning_ girl who requires my company and - "

"OW….I was just kidding, c'mon man!"

"Boss, take it easy! That phone is _expensive_ "

TBC

A/N: Sorry that this took a little longer to update than usual, I've tried to make it a bit longer to compensate! I'm planning on incorporating Ziva in somehow in the coming chapters, rest assured that I haven't forgotten her!

Also, with NICS being an American show and all that I'd just like to point out that I'm Irish and therefore might not always grasp the various nuances properly, my apologies, please bear with me!


	8. Home Comforts

Shirts and mismatching socks adorned the floor.

Haphazard DVD cases littered the windowsills.

Empty soda cans and chip packets covered the bedside table.

The table, beside the unmade and highly untidy bed.

Surveying what he considered to be the heinous chaos, Gibbs' eyes narrowed when he saw the nonchalant expression on Tony's face as he lay sprawled on the unkempt bed reading some kind of…magazine.

"Hey boss" Tony greeted; feeling very contented and full after a particularly delicious dinner.

"Tony" Gibbs muttered through gritted teeth, "didn't I tell you to clean up this pigsty?"

A wounded look crossed the young man's face as he surveyed the room innocently.

"I _did_ " he protested sulkily, gesturing to the bedroom at large as if it was an oasis of hygiene.

Closing his eyes and leaning against the door frame, Gibbs wondered how he was possibly going to survive the next month with this kid. It was only day two of Tony's sentence and his slovenly ways were already starting to drive the older man completely insane.

"This room had better be completely clean in the next ten minutes or you can forget about watching that game tomorrow."

Tony instantly leapt up from the bed and started cleaning his surroundings with extreme haste, causing Gibbs to chuckle as he left him to it.

This game was apparently the most important event of the year and the kid had whined and whined until the elder agent had allowed him to get it in on pay-per-view.

Ten or so minutes later and as Gibbs surveyed the room, he gave a satisfied nod.

"It'll do, I suppose" he approved teasingly causing Tony to roll his eyes in exasperation at his boss' obsessive need for all things clean.

"I still get the game then right?" he asked anxiously, studying the older man's face intently for any signs of a negative answer.

"If you keep it clean" Gibbs answered agreeably and with a nod, giving his own eye roll as the delighted expression made its way across the boys face.

"Want to come and watch a film before bed or are you ok up here?" he asked, not wanting Tony to feel like he had to stay in his room when not eating the rigorously enforced breakfast, lunch and dinner.

"Can I choose?" Tony perked up hopefully.

"Nope, not a hope in hell" Gibbs replied immediately, having been subjected to the agents choice of genre more times than he cared to admit.

Sighing in exasperation but being secretly pleased at the invitation, Tony slipped off the bed and set off downstairs to presumably engage in another National Geographic marathon.

An hour or so later saw the first and second in command lounging in front of the television, Tony grudgingly enjoying the factual series more than he would ever admit to. He also would never admit to the irrational feelings of…warm f _uzziness_ ; he had felt when his boss had pressed a tray of his favourite late night snack on him, without him even asking.

Reaching instinctively to his jeans pocket to text his college buddy a particularly hilarious joke he'd just remembered, he groaned when he remembered Gibbs had confiscated it. Peeking a look at the relaxed looking older man, he weighed his options and decided what the hell.

"Uh…boss?" he mumbled sweetly, pulling his practice perfect face of wide eyed innocence.

Hearing the sugary tone in his agent's voice, Gibbs was instantly on alert.

Eyeing the kid intently, he sighed. He definitely wanted something. Something he probably knew he shouldn't be asking for.

"Yeah Tony?" he answered warily.

Taking in a deep breath, Tony blindly went in for the kill shot.

"Is there any chance I can have my phone back? I feel _naked_ without it" he wheedled.

Sighing, Gibbs realised he was right to be suspicious. The kid was only forty eight hours into his confinement and already he was looking for seasoned inmates privileges. Deciding to nip the whining in the bud, the older man easily pulled his face into one of his firmest expressions.

The Tony expression.

Tim usually engendered a less ferocious frown.

"I see" he began shortly "well now, you _will_ be naked if you ask me that again before your time is up Tony. Naked from the waist down, whilst I reacquaint your backside with unseasonal _heat._ That's despite the fact that even I wouldn't have thought that it would need a refresher so soon, is that clear?"

Gulping and remembering the very recent paddling that still clung to his backside when it was exposed to any particular hard surface, Tony nodded his head vigorously.

"Got it boss, sorry" he mumbled contritely, putting his puppy eyes to very good use.

"Good, we'll say no more about it then" replied Gibbs in a softer tone, with a jerk of his head and biting his lip to keep from laughing at the kids frantic backpedalling.

Tony nodded in relief and silently cursed himself for his stupidity.

He squirmed suddenly as he thought of work tomorrow. He deduced that Gibbs must have had McGee track his cell and that's how the elder man had found him at the bar. Therefore, the probie would have figured out that he had been the first to stray outside the bounds of their collective grounding, and their boss' probable response to it.

Whether or not he would spill his McGushy guts to Ziva and Abby, he wasn't sure. He suspected the junior agent wouldn't. Despite their constant bickering, there was a certain code that existed between the two and taking pleasure in the Gibbs based misfortune of the other, was definitely in breach of the code.

He didn't realise he was outwardly showing any signs of distress as the series progressed on the screen in front of the two men, he also didn't realise that Gibbs was eying him curiously.

He was broken from his anxious reverie by the sounds of his boss's voice.

"Something bothering you, Tony?" came the simple question.

Startling somewhat, the senior field agent opened and shut his mouth nervously in response.

Gibbs waited patiently, he knew the boy would vocalise his thoughts eventually.

Sure enough, a few moments later and his patience was rewarded.

"What if the others know…if they figure out…uhh, that I…well…" he stuttered somewhat nonsensically, but to the seasoned agent, it made immediate sense.

"If they figure out that you broke the rules, got your backside tanned and that I'm also holding you captive?" he supplied, with a grin.

Appreciating the levity, Tony responded with an answering smile.

"Yeah, that" he confirmed softly.

Sighing slightly, Gibbs considered his answer.

"They might give you a hard time, but I'll give them a hard headslap if they do, how's that?" he asked gently.

Brightening immediately, Tony nodded his acceptance.

"Good. Now, go on up to bed. It's late and I need you on your game tomorrow."

Yawning slightly, Tony obediently slipped off the couch and made his way up to his room.

Gibbs quickly tidied up downstairs and made his way into the kitchen to grab a glass of water for Tony's bedside table for when he woke up in the middle of the night.

Damn kid always forgot it.

…..

TBC

….

A/N: I know there was no spanking scene in this chapter, but after the paddling in the last chapter I felt like a fluffy bout of homeliness was required! Please let me know if there's anything specific you want to see in this storyline, I never know where I'm taking any story so there's no script that needs to be adhered to! Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!


	9. Workin' on a Chain Gang - Tim's Escape

Tim was already seated at his desk and working when Tony and Gibbs strolled in. The senior agent held his breath in tentative anticipation of McGee teasing him about his ill advised lapse in judgement.

He let the breath out in one go in relief as the junior agent flashed him a discreet and sympathetic smile, which was sincere from beginning to finish, before dropping his head back down to his file.

Returning a smile of gratitude, Tony settled himself behind his own desk and made a mental note to give over teasing Tim about his book.

Gibbs, who was pretending not to notice the silent interaction between his two boys smiled slightly. Bicker like four year olds though they might, they always had the other's six.

Ziva arrived within minutes, and the team leader was soon barking out orders concerning the day's work. The three field agents were soon immersed in running down various leads, and Tony was immensely thankful that the Mossad liaison appeared to be absolutely none the wiser as to his current accommodation setting.

Hours passed and the time to write up the various reports of the day was upon them, and the three agents worked diligently at their desks.

Gibbs had long since left to battle it out with the Director about her forcing them all to attend a sexual harassment seminar.

This gave Tim the requisite supervisory absence to sulk.

He couldn't help it. Tonight was his coveted WoW convention. He had waited months and months for it and had gone through turmoil to secure tickets. He and his old MIT friends were meant to be going, and they weren't taking the excuse of his sudden illness in their stride.

He had been half tempted, in a particular vicious fit of sulking whilst at home, to just go. Gibbs would never find out. He wouldn't even know where to begin looking for the convention. However, seeing how Tony had been busted caused him to reconsider. He knew he couldn't possibly survive another round with his boss's paddle. Or the man's disappointment.

He had just under two weeks of torture left. He was already experiencing extreme cabin fever. He hated his apartment these days. It was like a particularly luxurious prison cell, but a prison cell nonetheless. He missed passionately his coffee mornings at the book club, his writing group, his… _constitutionally protected liberty._

He bristled as he thought of all the social events he'd missed. Sure, he might not be wining and dining stunning women across the length and breadth of DC on a nightly basis, like DiNozzo, but he still had a life. Scowling at his screen, he saw another message pop up from Jeff, his old roommate. Sighing, he clicked into it.

Sure enough it was a lengthy and threatening diatribe, forcibly demanding his presence at the conference tonight. Grinding his teeth, he quickly typed another complete fabrication about his feeling unwell.

What else was he supposed to say?

"Oh sorry guys, my boss is mad at me so I'm not allowed out to play?"

Frowning ferociously at the thought, he grudgingly turned back to his now long neglected report.

Unfortunately for the pouting probie, that was the very moment a highly irate and freshly tongue lashed Jethro stormed back into his team's communal office area. The Director had thoroughly chewed him out for allowing his teams interpersonal training go three years out of date.

Glancing over the shoulders of DiNozzo and David, he was satisfied with the progress they had made in his absence. Feeling it was unnecessary but knowing the other two would sulk if he didn't, he leaned over McGee's personal space. He was highly surprised and irritated to see that the kid was still in the same place that he'd been when he left.

"McGee" he ground out quietly, causing the young man to jump, startled by his sudden presence.

"Did you by any chance sustain a concussion whilst I was gone?" he continued angrily, the last thing he needed was to be hauled over the coals because his team couldn't get on with their work without his direct supervision.

Paling slightly, Tim glanced at the offending screen and saw that he had written three words in the last hour or so. Racking his brains, he tried to find a justification for his lack of productivity. He needn't have bothered. The stinging head slap and "get to work" order spared him from it.

Rubbing his head slightly and sighing, the young agent turned back his work in earnest.

Which wasn't easy considering he could feel his cell vibrating nonstop in his pocket, and being fully aware that it was most likely a string of dire messages about his absence from tonight's event of the year.

The day came to its logical and merciful conclusion, and the team scattered quickly when Gibbs issued his "wrap it up" order.

Tony, to their boss's place.

Ziva, to a particularly rigorous training session for her upcoming marathon attempt.

Tim, home, to sulk some more.

As he watched Ziva pull out of the lot and Gibbs and Tony follow her, the probationary agent sat and sighed heavily. There was no point in rushing; he'd already cleaned his place from top to bottom. Repaired all the defects that he'd managed to put off for months. Made a start on a sequel to his novel.

He'd lost count of the things he'd found to do in attempt to amuse himself, but he was sure that they were running out. And fast.

Groaning, he too steered his way out of the Navy Yard's lot and set off for home, a glum expression etched onto his usually bright face. Ten minutes later saw him throwing open the door to his place; he moodily threw his keys onto the nearest table and set off towards his room to get changed. Clad in jeans and a sweatshirt, he then launched himself into his favourite arm chair and flicked on the television with a glower.

Hadn't he suffered enough with the paddling he'd received? Why did he have to be under house arrest too, what was he, some kind of common criminal?

Cutting his teeth on the edge of these vehement thoughts, he turned his attention back to the recorded documentary on the viability of extra terrestrial life he'd recorded. An hour or so later he had was still wound up. Sighing, he heaved himself out his chair and set off towards the kitchen to grab a drink.

 _How exciting_ he muttered to himself scathingly.

Glancing at his watch as he pulled out a bottle of cola, he saw with a pang that he should be leaving for the convention right about now. Which he would be doing, if he wasn't be so mercilessly persecuted.

As he made his way back to his cushy chair, muttering to himself about how unfair life was, he was interrupted by a knock on the door. Glancing in alarm at the volume level of his television, he closed his eyes in despair. He had come to blows with his highly alarming neighbour many times before. Anything and everything seemed to set the extremely well muscled man off.

Groaning but deciding to get the clash over and done with so he could return to his pensive state of anger, he opened the front door in answer.

He felt his mouth fall open as he observed the unannounced caller.

Well, _callers._

"G-guys" he stammered looking around the five young men that stood on his door step, "what are you all doing here?"

"Doesn't look very sick to me, what do you think Kevin?" the nearest thirty-something said accusingly.

"Nope, looks to be the pinnacle of health to me Jeff" came the immediate reply.

The three other men nodded their heads in sage agreement with this declaration.

Timothy McGee was far from sick. Therefore, Timothy McGee was _going_ to the convention.

Barging into the young agent's apartment, all five MIT grads rounded on the still gawping Tim.

"You are coming with us right now Timmy, I know your work is important to you, but you can't miss out on a once in a lifetime experience just because of your obsessive _'never be overtired'_ rule."

McGee cringed as he realised that they had deduced this as his reason for cancelling the most coveted of plans. His never be overtired rule was infamous throughout his MIT days with the five men in front of him. His rigorous attention to achieving the optimum levels of sleep had resulted in him coming top of his class, so he had figured it had been worth the teasing.

Right now though, he wished it had never crossed his mind.

Holding up his hands in defence, he shook his head.

"Guys I just _can't_ tonight, I'm sorry, I have uhh… my performance review tomorrow. It's kind of a big deal, I need to be on top of my game" he lied, feeling sick as he did so.

"Performance review" Kevin scoffed. "They're lucky to have you, and they know it, you'll be fine."

Four heads nodded in earnest agreement with this statement, casing McGee to smile slightly.

He'd really missed his friends. Of course, he loved his team. But, they never really understood him.

They thought him a geek, odd, different, but they accepted him. But they didn't understand him.

With the five men in front of him, he could be himself completely. No watching what he said in case he sounded like a nerd, no glares to shut him up when he got excited about a new piece of technology. Plus, they had made the effort to come and get him. What was he meant to do? Plus, he really, really wanted to go. Like, _really_ wanted to go.

Besides, he wouldn't get caught. He wasn't _Tony_ for crying out loud. And he'd stay in for one extra night when their grounding was lifted, thereby making up for tonight. Yes, that made perfect and reasonable sense he told himself, as he felt a grin spread across his face.

"Ok ok, let's go" he all but squealed, as he rummaged through his desk drawer for his ticket amidst the beaming faces of the other five technological enthusiasts. Soon, they were all piled into two cars on the way to what would surely be the one of the best nights of their lives. Tim took the time to surreptitiously reprogram his cell's GPS, so that it would show it him at home.

Just in case.

Some distance away from the location of the WoW convention and some time later, Tony and Gibbs lay sprawled in front of Tony's choice of film. The older man having grudgingly agreed they could take it in turns to determine the night's entertainment.

He pretended to be irritated by the kid's constant stream of narrative chatter, but in reality he enjoyed having Tony stay. He would have preferred it to be in less…corrective circumstances, but the boy seemed happy enough. As the agents chattering reached its crescendo, the elder man;s cell pinged.

Fishing it out of his pocket with a sigh and praying it wasn't a new case Gibbs flipped it open to a new MMS message from an old Marine buddy, also turned agent. Having been painstakingly taught by McGee how to deal with these newfangled picture messages, he frowned in concentration as he went through the various steps required to download the image to his archaic phone. He had silenced Tim's tirade on the historic values of his cell with a glare when he suggested he upgrade.

He got as far as the text portion of the text when he felt the first strains of confusion.

"How comes you didn't get roped into bringing your resident genius to this hellhole? I'm getting soft" the message read.

He waited patiently for the image to download, idly wondering what imbecilic joke his old buddy was twittering on about. He smiled briefly at the similarities between their two teams, the other former Marine had an almost replica of McGee on his team. Except, his McGee was currently in a wheelchair stemming from a field work accident. Which would explain why the former gunny had driven him to wherever the hell he was talking about.

The agent snorted. If the man wanted to see soft, he should see how _his_ team had the formerly impenetrable Jethro Gibbs wrapped around their collective little fingers.

He was bolted upright from his chair and his thoughts as the image finally downloaded.

In startling clarity.

There, with his arms draped around the shoulders of some other kids he vaguely remembered seeing before, stood McGee. Plus his replica from Gibbs' friend's team. Right in front of a large WoW banner, welcoming all and sundry to the convention of a lifetime. With a date and timestamp, of today. Of half an hour ago.

Gibbs felt his head swoon slightly.

This couldn't be happening.

With Tony, ok it wasn't that much of a complete shock. It was still a shock however.

With Tim, he was absolutely astounded. He would never have believed it of the junior agent.

He grimly realised that when his former co-serviceman had joined his team for the latter stages of an investigation once before, that he had very briefly been introduced to McGee, who hadn't been paying attention at the time. The kid wouldn't have remembered him. But a Marine never forgot a face. He surmised that Tim must have known his counterpart from outside agency meetings. Otherwise, he would never have gotten into a photo with him, even on the off chance that it would be seen by his boss.

Obviously seeing the rapidly changing demeanour of the elder agent, Tony looked at him in concern.

"You ok boss?" he asked in confusion.

"No" Gibbs snapped "why can't any of you people just do as you're god damned told, it'd be easier to have toddlers for a team."

Tony's face fell instantly, and he looked away in obvious hurt.

Immediately regretting his completely unfair snarling, Gibbs felt a pang of guilt.

"I'm sorry Tony" he mumbled sincerely "it's nothing you've done, I shouldn't have snapped."

Gawping slightly, the senior field agent turned back to his boss.

"You don't believe in apologies" he stated wonderingly.

Smiling slightly despite himself, Gibbs nodded his agreement to the statement.

"There are exceptions to every rule, Tony. Even mine" he said simply.

Nodding and deciding not to press the issue, the boy looked intently at the older man.

"What's wrong then?" he asked intently.

Sighing and running his hands through his silver hair, much to the mounting alarm of the younger man, Gibbs didn't immediately answer.

"Boss?" Tony urged beginning to feel the beginnings of panic.

Standing up abruptly and placing a reassuring hand on his clearly anxious agent, Gibbs cleared his throat whilst he considered his answer.

"Do me a favour Tony, go upstairs and make room for McGee in your room. He will be…joining you shortly. I'm going to go out for a while, you do not leave this house, you understand?"

Nodding in shock, the younger agent couldn't make the words that raced around his minds channel their way through his mouth.

Satisfied with Tony's non verbal assurances, Gibbs felt the anger and disappointment flare up in him once more as he turned abruptly and stormed from the house.

Dropping his head into his hands, Tony let out a groan of despair and muttered into the now empty house.

"No McGee, you didn't. You fool. You're supposed to do as I say, not as I do."

With that miserable utterance, he dragged himself upstairs and obediently cleared his things off of Tim's bed, hoping all the while that there was some other explanation for the probie's sudden change in accommodation requirements.

Driving slightly haphazardly through the now dark streets, Gibbs soon reached his destination after consulting his unknowingly informing friend. Killing the engine outside the impressive looking building that was crawling with all manner of enthusiasts; he leaned back in the driver's seat. Closing his eyes in an attempt to get a handle on himself, he quickly exited the car and for the second time in recent days went in search of one of his wayward agents.

He felt horrifically out of place the minute he stormed through the door of the gathering. For one thing he was about thirty years older than everyone there and for another he might as well as had a sign on his head that read "not a genius."

Scowling, he pushed through the various groupings, his well practiced eye trained in search of McGee.

He didn't have to wait long, there talking animatedly to a circle of his friends was Tim. Completely oblivious to the hell that was about to rain down on his life in the next few seconds. Gibbs was forcibly reminded of his extraction of Tony from the bar a few days ago.

 _They even disobey me in the same way_ he thought angrily, as he pushed one last group of stragglers out of his way.

As he had done with Tony, he stealthily walked the perimeter of the grouping. McGee certainly didn't notice him. Briskly making his way to the kid's position in the circle, he made it just in time to hear the tail end of what must have been a particularly hilarious joke that Tim was telling, judging by the guffaws it produced from his audience.

Tim was still completely unaware of his boss's murderous presence.

Dropping down to the kid's range of audio, he leant in and whispered in his ear.

"Hey Tim, you having a good time?"

If it had been a less dire situation, the elder man would have chuckled at the seismic jump his conversational words drew from his agent. But it wasn't, and he didn't. He merely stared ferociously at the boy when he eventually managed to turn around and face him.

Luckily for Tim, the group were discussing the possible bugs in an expected software release and weren't paying any heed to the interaction between senior and junior agent.

"You will find some reason to get your ass out of his building in five seconds McGee, or I drag you out. Entirely your choice."

Gulping, Tim nodded frantically and quietly informed his friends that a new and urgent case had come in and he had to leave immediately.

Giving him sympathetic looks and pats on the back; his friends accepted this lie as truth and bade him a fond farewell as they turned back to their conversation.

And as Tim was surreptitiously turned towards the door, by a vice like grip on his arm.

The young man didn't dare protest, or open his mouth. Mainly because he was positively sure if he did so, he would merely be encouraging the nausea that engulfed him to progress to full blown throwing up.

As he was forcibly put into the passenger seat of his boss' car he fought the urge to get out and run. As fast and as far as possible.

Besides, he was hopeless at sports.

When the elder agent slipped into the driver seat, he instinctively turned to him.

"Boss, please, I can explain. I - "

"Silence" Gibbs merely snarled. "I don't want to hear you breathe McGee, let alone talk. Is that clear?"

Paling even further and feeling the clamminess spread throughout his palms, Tim nodded his head sadly.

He leant against the door as the car roared to life and felt misery overwhelm him.

Shooting a furtive glance at his boss, his obvious fears were realised.

This was going to be the longest car ride of his life.

…

TBC

…

A/N: Please feel free to leave any suggestions of things you would like to see happen! I've had a few great ideas left/sent to me, and I definitely plan on putting them in here somehow! I'd like to thank Toni M H for the suggestion of using the convention from a previous chapter as Tim's catalyst!

Anyways, thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed!


	10. Convention Catharsis

Tony looked up and gulped from the sofa, as the front door was thrown open and McGee was marched in by the arm. Without breaking his stride, Gibbs led the trembling Tim right into the corner that he had gotten familiar with from the debacle at the crime scene. To his credit, the probie didn't utter a word of protest in response.

Stepping back and running a hand through his hair in frustration, Gibbs tried valiantly to calm himself the hell down.

"Tony, go to your room. Tim and I need to have a little chat."

Gulping once more, the senior field agent struggled with his emotions. He didn't want to leave McGormless alone with a clearly enraged boss. However, he equally didn't want to wind up in an adjoining corner for disobeying.

"Boss" he began, fully sure he would regret it.

"Don't you think it might be best to…uhh, wait until tomorrow so that you're not so uhm…homicidal?"

Opening his mouth to ream his senior field agent, on the basis of being thoroughly sick of his team's collective inability to do as they were told, Gibbs bit his tongue.

Kid was just trying to look after his partner.

"I won't kill him Tony, I promise. Go on now, up you go" he said in a much gentler voice.

Satisfied with this assurance, and giving the back of a slumped Tim a sympathetic look, Tony obediently made his way out of the living room and up to his and Tim's room. He immediately swapped over his pillows for the probie's, McGee would definitely need the fluffier of the two sets when he was finished his discussion with their boss. Knowing he could do no more for the junior agent, he sat down on his own bed and waited anxiously for Tim to join him.

He knew it would be a long wait.

Studying the defeated poise of his junior agent, Gibbs sighed. He was getting too old for this; these kids would literally be the death of him.

"I need time to calm down. You do not move a muscle from that corner, you do not even _think_ about moving a muscle from that corner. Is that clear?"

A muffled and mumbled "yes boss" assured him that it was indeed, clear.

With that, the team leader stormed from the living room and headed down to the basement to take his frustrations out on his boat.

It was a hell of a lot better than taking them out on his agent.

Time passed and the raw anger began to slip away from the wearied Jethro. As he vigorously sanded his latest boat, he did his best to bring calmness back to himself. He thought about all the good points of the kid upstairs and how rarely he screwed up like this. These thoughts alone calmed him down considerably and as he attacked a particularly rough part in the boats hull, he knew he could be fair with his latest rebel.

Tim shook and trembled in the corner as he lamented his own stupidity. There would be other conventions, but oh no, he just _had_ to go to this one. Gibbs was going to, no matter what he said to Tony, _kill_ him. He closed his eyes against the wave of nausea he felt about the likelihood of another round with his boss' paddle. He wished he could be like Tony and laugh it off after a while. But he couldn't. Any time he disappointed Gibbs it made him feel physically unwell for days afterwards. Resting his forehead against the cool walls he sighed.

He'd really done it this time.

His self deprecating thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the living room door opening, and he stiffened in response. As much as he despised waiting for any punishment, he always wished he could wait a bit longer when the wait eventually came to an end.

"Front and centre, Tim."

It was a relatively simple command. However, the MIT grad couldn't communicate this to his legs and he remained resolutely put.

"Tim…"

Hearing the growl in his boss' voice jerked his uncooperative legs into action, and the young agent obediently trotted out of his corner based shelter. He complied with the unspoken command to sink down into the chair directly across from Gibbs's seated position.

Feeling a staggering wave of déjà vu once more, the older man fixed the younger with a glare.

"Explain."

Tim nodded and tried his very best to cooperate.

Stammering and stuttering though he might, he eventually managed to give a full and frank explanation of what had happened to lead him into this position. He tried not to gulp audibly when he saw how his boss' eyes narrowed when he told him about his reprogramming of his cells GPS. He made his way through the remaining snippets of information and then hung his head in shame with a mumbled "sorry boss."

Nodding slightly, Gibbs cast an appraising look over his junior agent.

"Must be one hell of a convention, huh?" he asked gently.

He knew he might be being unfair. But it was just so much _harder_ discipline Tim than it was Tony, and letting the kid know that it was his _actions_ that were bad and not _him_ who was bad, was important to the older man. Tony was more self assured than his younger counterpart, and therefore didn't require as much…handholding.

Nodding slightly with a shy smile, Tim instantly looked calmer, as was the elder agent's intent.

"Yeah boss, it was."

"Not exactly worth it now though" he added glumly.

"No, I shouldn't think so" Gibbs agreed grimly.

"I'm disappointed in you Tim" he began, and was cut off momentarily by the visible flinch his words drew from his agent.

Feeling his heart weigh heavily, he pushed on regardless.

"I expect more from you. I can usually always count on you to be the more responsible one. I already have my hands full with the other three; I definitely don't need them any fuller with you. I never would have believed this of you, I really wouldn't. Tell me, honestly, did you think that the grounding you three got was unfair?"

Tim looked up from his head slumped position and shook his head in the negative, vigorously.

"N-no boss" he stammered, and the elder agent heard the sincerity his words held.

"So you agree that you deserved it?"

"Yes boss" Tim replied firmly.

"Just not so much when it didn't suit the requirements of your social life?"

The guilty expression on his agents face pulled on his heartstrings, but Gibbs retained his firm disposition.

"I guess…I guess you could put it like that."

"I'd guess so too, McGee" came the dry reply, causing the younger man's head to droop even further.

Gulping, Tim peered up through doleful eyes.

"How much trouble am I in?" he asked, licking his lips nervously.

Feeling another bout of déjà vu slap him in the face as Tim followed the exact scrip that Tony had used just days before, Gibbs blinked somewhat before sighing heavily.

"What do you think, Tim?"

Licking his lips in anxiety once more, the young agent gave the truthful answer.

"A lot, boss."

"I'm sorry, I really am" he added miserably, knowing that the elder agent would waive his no apologies rule in the current situation.

Nodding his acknowledgement of the boy's answer and apology, Gibbs strove to find the resolve he'd need to get through what needed to be done.

Reaching down, he pulled out the paddle he'd brought up with him from behind his armchair.

When he saw the look that crossed McGee's face, he knew he'd made the right decision in not making him go and get it himself, as he had done with Tony. There were just some instances when he couldn't treat the two agents with diplomatic equality, and this was one of them. Tim was just, more _sensitive_ than DiNozzo.

"Boss n-no please, don't. Not that. Please…don't use that. I'll never do anything like this ever again, I _swear"_ came the instant plea, that in itself put an extra five or so years on the battle worn Jethro. Closing his eyes briefly, he took in a deep breath and reminded himself that the kid had brought this on himself.

"Do you think _I_ like having to do this, Tim?" he asked quietly.

"No boss" the young agent replied immediately, feeling another pang of guilt. He never really gave much thought about the impact having to punish him had on his boss.

"Then how about you make this easier on both of us, and get yourself over that sofa" the elder man said sternly, indicating to the now horribly familiar upraised sofa arm.

When the boy merely looked at the inoffensive sofa in horror, Gibbs softened somewhat.

"Sooner we get started, the sooner it's over and done with, Tim" he said gently.

Not being able to refute the logic of this statement, McGee gave a shaky nod and standing, he made his way over to his allocated spot.

As he was about to drape himself over the arm, he was halted in his tracks.

"Lose the pants, Tim" Gibbs instructed, loathing himself as he did so.

Predictably, an anguished face was turned towards him with pleading eyes.

"Please boss…" the younger man squeaked, horror etched across his youthful face.

"You do it, or I do it, it's absolutely your call" the team leader instructed firmly, keeping his own inner turmoil at what he was doing firmly secreted away.

Closing his eyes in despair, the junior agent fumbled with the clasp of his jeans and eventually managed to pool them around his knees. Casting one last puppy dog look at his silently angry boss, he sighed when it was obviously hopelessly ineffective. He pulled his boxers down to meet his jeans, and hesitantly bent over the side of the sofa.

Gripping the handle of the paddle firmly, Gibbs quickly got into his own position behind his agent. Placing the comforting and restraining hand on the small of the upturned Tim's back, he groaned inwardly.

"You know why you're here, Tim?"

The nodding of the sandy brown head and a muffled "yes boss" let him know that the kid knew exactly why he had wound up in the position he was in.

Satisfied with this, the elder man raised his arm high and brought down he first of what would be many licks upon the bared backside in front of him.

He anticipated the jerk that the young man instinctively gave, and retained a tight hold on him. He couldn't however control the strangled howl that escaped his agent in response, and he felt it pierce his heart. With reluctance, he swiftly settled into a steady tempo. The paddle came down swiftly, but he allowed enough time between each thwack for the pain to reach its peak, but come down again before any of the sting could subside.

Gibbs could feel rather than hear or see the young man begin to cry quietly, and he nearly lost his resolve to continue. Steeling himself, he brought the paddle down to address the junior agents sit spots. Tipping him forward gently to allow greater access, he tried in vain not to let the now very loud crying get to him.

Starting a new cycle of methodical swats at the top of the now crimson backside, he closed his eyes as the howling of his young agent began to reach its highest point. Planting stripe after stripe down on the upturned rear in front of him, he had to grit his teeth to prevent the young man's pleading break through his very fragile resolve.

"B-boss…I get it…aghh…I get it, I'll n-never do it a-again… _please_."

Closing his eyes briefly, Gibbs brought the paddle down heavily once more before uncharacteristically answering his agents strangled plea.

"Nearly there Tim, we're nearly there…you're doing great."

With that, he again dropped the paddle downwards to apply a deeper shade of red to the already glowing sit spots of the young man.

With that, the howling gave way to a quiet and racking sobbing and Tim's torso went limp over the sofa arm.

Both being indications that the punishment was nearing its merciful close.

Starting one last cycle of swats at the top of the ruby red backside, Gibbs methodically worked his way down through the top, middle and lower regions of the kid's rear. Applying a last flurry of thwacks to the tender curve of upper thigh and backside, he was staggeringly relieved to dish out the very last swat and to throw the paddle out of his hand with immediacy.

Crouching instantly beside his agents tear stained face, Gibbs placed a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder and rested another on his head. He knew it would take a long time for Tim to completely cry himself out, and he knew he wouldn't move from his uncomfortable position until he had done just that. He murmured a nonstop string of reassurance to the young man, gently praising him for his bravery in completely owning up and accepting his punishment.

A considerable timeframe passed, and eventually the last tear dropped from the red rimmed eyes. Still, the elder man stayed in the now quite painful position as he waited through the sniffling and snuffling stage, which always came after the vigorous crying. He kept both hands placed reassuringly on the contrite agent, knowing how much McGee needed that contact with him after any kind of punishment he'd earned himself.

He'd never let the kid know, or hell, any of them know, that he needed the comfort just as much they did.

Eventually Tim started to stand up, and as was his habit, the elder man became transfixed with some imaginary chore that needed to be done right that second. In this case it was rubbing a smudge from the nearby coffee table.

Grateful for his boss' predictable and yet uncharacteristic tact, Tim quickly pulled his boxers and jeans back up to their original position and didn't even try to fight the yelp that escaped him as he did so.

Hearing the protesting whimper, and knowing that it meant the boy's clothing had been fully righted and it was therefore safe to turn around, Gibbs swivelled to face his junior agent.

"How're you doing, kid?" he asked gently.

Peeking up through wet eyelashes, Tim gave him a rueful smile.

It always amazed the elder agent how that small smile could cause him to feel such staggering relief.

"I'm ok boss" the younger man mumbled softly, with no trace of anger or resentment in his voice.

Nodding slowly, Gibbs cast an appraising eye over the agent.

"Am I getting a hug today or next year then?" he asked softly, arching an eyebrow in Tim's direction.

He snorted as the boy lost no time in launching himself into his opened arms. Pulling him into his chest tightly, he held him close for a long time.

"Don't you even think about making me do this again anytime soon Tim, it kills me. You got it?"

The "got it boss" was muffled due to the fact the kid had his face buried into his chest, but the elder man caught the sincerity in it nonetheless.

Nodding, the elder agent released the junior one and fought to bring his resolve into being for the last time.

Of the night anyway.

"My policy on lying Tim, what is it?"

Expecting the question and knowing that there was no way he was getting off without addressing his deception, the young agent took in a deep breath.

"Zero tolerance, boss" he answered immediately and correctly.

Nodding his head, Gibbs looked at the boy sternly.

"Did you lie to me tonight, Tim?"

Taking in another deep and steadying breath, the younger man nodded his head.

"I tampered with my phone, I snuck out…I deliberately set out to deceive you, which is the same thing as lying" he replied, surprised by how steady his voice sounded.

Feeling a pang of pride for the young man in front of him, Gibbs nodded and issued firm instructions not to move from the living room as he himself swept from it.

Entering into the ground floor bathroom, he closed his eyes in distaste for what he was about to do, as he simultaneously reached for a new bar of soap. Quickly lathering it under a jet of cool water, he grabbed a clean washcloth and placed the foaming bar on it, feeling the strains of "been there, done that" once again.

Quickly making his way back into the living room, he groaned inwardly at the look of alarm that crossed the junior agents face.

"You don't lie to me, Tim. I don't care _what_ the reason is. There is no excuse. Got that?"

The sad nodding of the sandy brown head assured him that it was indeed, gotten.

"Good. Now, I take it you know how this works or do I need to explain?"

"I know how it works boss" Tim mumbled morosely.

Feeling the familiar tugging of his heartstrings, Gibbs nodded his approval.

"Good, then open up."

Eyeing the soap as if it were a particularly poisonous breed of snake, Tim obediently albeit reluctantly opened his mouth.

Like Tony's had, his eyes instantly watered in protest as the strong scented soap flooded his mouth.

"Bite down" Gibbs commanded sternly, for the second time in recent days.

As the young man did so, he took a firm grip of his upper arm and led him back to the corner he had recently vacated.

"You're going to stand here and think about whether lying to me is _ever_ worth it, clear?"

The forlorn jerking of the young man's head answered the question and Gibbs turned and collapsed into the nearest chair.

Five minutes passed quietly, and the elder man grabbed the washcloth and made his way back to his agent. Deftly removing him from the corner, he held the cloth out to him.

"Spit it out Tim, there's a good lad, all done now."

The younger agent immediately did so and let out a fragrant sigh of relief.

Arching his eyebrow, and tilting his head slightly at the young man, Gibbs surveyed him quietly.

"Made my point on honesty, Tim?"

"Yes boss" came the hasty reply, accompanied with a fervent nodding of the tousled head.

Chucking, the elder agent opened his arms once more.

"Come here, you menace" he instructed affectionately.

Tim instantly folded into his boss' arms once more and felt completely calm and collected for the first time that night. Ruffling the kid's hair, he held him tightly to him once more, relieved beyond belief that the hardest two parts of what he had to do were over.

Releasing the boy from his hold, he gave him what would hopefully be the last stern glare for a while.

"Last but not least, Tim. You're starting your grounding from scratch, you're forfeiting any time served and you will be staying here until your month is over. Got it?"

Preparing himself for a battle in response, the elder man was further relieved and gratified when the soft "yes boss" answered him.

Reaching out and carding the younger mans hair once more, Gibbs felt a wave of tiredness come over him.

"Good lad, now, why don't you go on up and brush your teeth to get rid of the taste in your mouth and I'll bring you and Tony up a bite to eat."

Brightening up immediately, Tim nodded and scampered out the door, albeit with a wince.

Feeling heartily relieved that the whole debacle had been taken care of, Gibbs set of towards the basement to put the much detested paddle back where it belonged, before heading back to the kitchen to make up a tray for his now doubled quantity of houseguests.

Ten or so minutes later, and he was nudging open the door of the boy's room carrying a cumbersome tray of both of their favourite late night snack. Both of them were seated on their own beds. Tim flashed him a look of gratitude as he entered, but Tony…there was something off about his gaze.

Was it reproachful?

As he perched on the side of Tim's bed, the elder agent was relieved when the kid kept up a full flow of animated conversation. He was less so, when out of the corner of his eye, he caught several glowering glanced being directed at him by his senior field agent.

Growing increasingly concerned but not wanting to address the matter without it being in private, the team leader used the annoyingly uncooperative yet new TV set in the kitchen to remove McGee from the room for a few moments, as he willingly offered to fix it.

When the bedroom door closed gently, Gibbs immediately turned to his field agent.

"What is it, Tony?" he asked directly.

"Nothing" the younger man mumbled, looking away from his boss.

"Tony…"

Turning back to face the elder of the two, the glowering look reappeared on the younger man's face.

"Did you…did you really have to be so hard on him?" he asked angrily.

Caught off guard by the loaded and scathing question, Gibbs merely stared at his agent in confusion.

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes and throw his hands up in the air in exasperation, Tony scowled.

"I could hear him crying…all the way up here, I could hear him crying."

Still startled, but beginning to see where this was going, Gibbs stared at the young man.

"Paddling's meant to hurt, Tony" he answered simply.

"I _know_ that" he replied mutinously.

"Do you also _know_ that the fact Tim got into the mess he did, isn't _your_ fault?" Gibbs shot back.

Tony gaped at him.

"How…h-how do you know…?"

Rolling his eyes slightly, Gibbs chuckled.

"Because I know _you._ And I know your logic. You think just because you got in trouble for the same thing, that Tim thought it was ok to do it as well and it's therefore your fault that he's sleeping on his stomach tonight?"

Blushing slightly, Tony nodded.

"But still…you _were_ pretty hard on him" he said stubbornly.

"I was pretty hard on you too, Tony" Gibbs pointed out.

"Yeah well…that's different" the younger agent mumbled

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Because…because well, Tim…he's younger is all" Tony replied, albeit less assuredly.

"I know that Tony, but I also need to know that all of you are capable of following my orders at all times, because if you aren't, and you disobey me in the field, anything could happen. You know that."

Not being able to fight the logic to this statement, Tony nodded slowly.

"I know that…it's just _hard_ listening to him cry like that is all" he said sadly.

Sighing heavily, Gibbs rubbed a hand over his face tiredly.

"You think it's easy to be the one _making_ him cry, Tony?" he asked quietly.

Clearly this train of thought hadn't occurred to the younger agent.

"No boss" he mumbled shamefacedly, feeling a pang of guilt.

"Sorry, I didn't think…I didn't think about it like that" he added in chagrin.

The elder man reached out and rapped him lightly round the head.

"Don't ever apologise for looking out for your partner, I'm proud of you."

Brightening instantly, Tony nodded his head acceptingly.

"So I guess I have a cellmate then?" he asked good-humouredly.

Snorting somewhat, Gibbs nodded.

"I guess you do. So help me Tony, I don't want to hear any fighting going on in here, you got it?"

A mischievous grin spread across his senior agents face, and he sighed resignedly.

"Can't make promises like that, boss" Tony teased, reaching for the snack he had been ignoring on principle, causing the elder of the two to chuckle.

The two soon fell into an easy and amiable conversation, when they were interrupted by the return of McGee.

"Uhh boss?" he said tentatively, popping his head round the door.

"Yeah, Tim?"

"That's not a television in your kitchen, it's a highly outdated alarm system monitor."

Gibbs's answering and confused "oh" was drowned out by the peals of laughter that were now escaping both junior and senior agent.

The two well placed head slaps did nothing to deter the laughter from the agents, delivered as Gibbs exited the room to examine the fraudulent television for himself.

As he began to descend the stairs he heard the two take bets on how long he would last in the nursing home before they threw him out.

"Brats" he muttered to himself, but being unable to prevent the chuckle that escaped him.

He wouldn't last one week in a nursing home.

A/N: Any suggestions, let me know! I'm currently a bit undecided on whether Abby will or won't follow in Tony and Tim's footsteps, at first I thought she definitely will. Now I wonder should I just leave it with the two boys going off the reservation. Lemme know what you think!

….

TBC

….


	11. Ground Rules

Gibbs waited impatiently in the living room, as the squabble over who could finish up in the bathroom first raged on upstairs. This despite the fact there were _three_ other perfectly acceptable bathrooms either of the two could use. He felt his brow furrow when he heard the telltale sounds of one inmate being forcibly shoved against a wall.

In other words, the sounds of Tony pushing Tim against the wall.

Growling, he heaved himself out his armchair and started up the stairs, comforting himself in the knowledge that if they were late for work the two overgrown children would be spending the night cleaning every tool he owned.

Predictably, when he reached the landing Tony was victoriously brushing his teeth in a scowling Tim's face, whilst simultaneously blocking him from entering the bathroom. Losing no time, the elder of the three quickly issued a relatively gentle headslap to the aggrieved junior agent and a much firmer headslap to the senior agent.

Squawking and spitting out a mouthful of toothpaste in protest, Tony turned a wounded face towards his boss.

"How come McCleanliness only got a tap?" he demanded sulkily.

"Because you pushed him. I don't know how many times I've told to keep your hands to yourself" Gibbs responded calmly.

Scowling at his boss' clear psychic abilities, Tony rolled his eyes and made a huge performance of allowing Tim to enter the bathroom, topped off with a gallant bow.

Biting his cheek to both keep from laughing and retaining his glower, the team leader informed them they had ten minutes to get their asses in the car.

Eventually, all three managed to get to work. Thankfully an active investigation kept them all busy and there was no time for any of the team to get into any difficulties with a growingly irate Gibbs. When the order came to finish up for night, everyone packed away gratefully. The ride home was smooth, save for a pit stop at Tim's place so that he could grab clothes and anything else he'd need for his…secondment.

As the three piled back into the house, Gibbs issued brief instructions to Tony and Tim go and get washed up for dinner whilst he went and prepped it. Deciding it better to be safe than sorry, the elder man trotted to the edge of the stairs armed with a half cut onion and an alarmingly sharp knife to bellow an order against fighting up the stairs.

Two muffled "we're not's!" came floating down the stairs, and satisfied with this the team leader returned to the kitchen.

An hour or so later saw the three extremely well fed and contended. Having heard enough teasing about how surprisingly good a cook he was, Gibbs eventually rolled his eyes and stood up.

"Guess we'll see how _surprisingly_ good you two are at washing up then, huh?" he smirked, and swept from the room, planting himself firmly in front of the game.

Sighing, Tim and Tony set to work. Twenty minutes later the wreckage that was Jethro Gibbs unleashed against three sirloin steaks had been effectively removed from the once again spotless kitchen.

Hearing the sounds of what he assumed they thought was dire labour come to a close, the elder agent raised his voice just loud enough to be heard in the dining area.

"You two… get in here. I want to talk to you."

Exchanging glum looks, the two young men were clearly of the same mind.

This was about their continual bickering.

Heaving huge sighs, they obediently trotted into the living room, looking all the part like marked men.

Looking up from his chair at the sounds of their arrival, the oldest of the three couldn't help but grin at their hangdog expressions.

"Cheer up, you're not in trouble. For once" he teased lightly.

Instantly brightening, the two took the seats their boss was pointing to and visibly relaxed.

"You getting married again boss? Are we pageboys?" Tony asked cheekily.

Growling something inaudible under his breath and glaring at his incorrigible agent, Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"I said you're not _in_ trouble. Not that you _can't_ be in trouble" he threatened half-heartedly, with none of the three agents believing what he was saying.

"Anyway, as I was saying" he shot a theatrical glower at Tony who grinned back "I wanted to talk to you two."

"What about boss?" Tim interjected.

"I'm getting there Tim" Gibbs sighed.

"Yeah McCurious, he's _getting_ there" Tony added, jerking the younger man in the ribs.

"Ow!"

"Tony!"

"Sorry boss."

Groaning at how the two in front of him could make reciting the alphabet a difficult chore, Gibbs tried again.

"I wanted to talk to you about how you both ended up here. More to the point, I want to talk to you about what you are _both_ to do so that you don't wind up here _again_."

He paused for a fraction, seeing the glum expressions now covering both agents' faces.

"You said we weren't in trouble" Tim accused miserably.

"I know I did. You're not."

"Then why do we have to _talk_ about it" Tony lamented miserably.

" _Because_ I do _not_ want to have to go down to the basement for anything other than beer, for a long time. Do you both understand what I'm saying?" Gibbs shot right back.

The two sandy brown heads nodded in perfect unison.

"Good, so glad you agree" came the sarcastic reply.

"Alright, Tony. I know why you did what you did, and we're not bringing all that back up. It's forgotten about. I just want to know, if the situation presented itself again, during the next month, what would you do?"

Looking like he'd just been asked to choreograph a three year olds ballet routine, the senior field agent merely stared at the elder man blankly.

"Huh?"

Fighting the urge to rap the boy over the head with a dictionary, Gibbs remained calm.

"What could you do _differently_ if a similar situation arises in the next month, tempting you to go out, when you know you're not allowed?" he asked patiently.

"Uhh…"

Again, a fleeting image of a heavy dictionary soared across the peripherals of the elder agents mind.

"Come to you?" Tony eventually offered, as if he was guessing the answer to a particularly heinous math problem.

"Bingo" Gibbs said softly.

Tony nodded, obviously relieved he'd gotten the answer right in the first go.

Turning his attention to his younger agent, the team leader tilted his head slightly.

"Tim?" he said gently, "same question."

Without hesitation, the younger man immediately opened his mouth.

"Come to you, boss."

"Exactly" Gibbs murmured approvingly.

Leaning forward in his chair somewhat, he looked at both boy's seriously.

"I mean it, you two. I don't expect you to be perfect, hell, I don't _want_ you to be perfect. I do however, want you to promise me that for all our sakes, if you're tempted in the next four weeks, you'll come to me. I won't yell, I won't be mad. But I want to know, I can help. Deal?"

Both heads nodded instantly in response.

"Deal boss" both young men chorused, drawing a crooked smile from the older man.

"Good, then scoot. Go do whatever you want for the night" he said fondly, leaning back in his chair, arms folded behind his head.

When neither of the two moved, he shot them a quizzical look.

"What's up?" he queried.

"Can… we hang here?" Tony asked, voicing Tim's question as affirmed by the nodding that was going on to his left.

Snorting, Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"Sure. You know you don't have to ask, I just thought you'd both want to be… _dogooling_ or whatever it is you do up there" he explained, gesturing up at the roof which housed the boy's room.

Tony looked at his younger counterpart in confusion.

"I usually speak Gibbs-ish quite well probie, but even I must admit defeat on this one. Any ideas?"

Shaking with laughter, Tim managed a nod.

"I think he means _googling_ , Tony" he stuttered through a fit of pealing giggles.

The team leader glared at the duo through narrowed eyes.

"I'm right here, you know" he interjected with a feigned cross tone.

"Of course you are" Tony agreed good-naturedly, offering a comforting nod.

The glare increased.

"Who could ever forget _you_ boss" Tim chimed in cheekily, still chuckling.

The glare became capable of being classed as a controllable weapon.

"You can both forget about those marshmallow contraptions you love" Gibbs grumbled.

Two shocked faces greeted this announcement.

"Hear that probie?"

"Cruel and unusual punishment, Tony."

"Absolutely."

"Imagine we had to tell Abby…"

Sighing and heaving himself out his chair Gibbs issued two well placed headslaps as he made his way to the kitchen, muttering a disgruntled "nicely played" as he did so.

Grinning, the two younger agents quickly flopped down in their respective "spots" and Tony deftly switched the channel over to a film so good, even McGee didn't complain.

A few minutes later, and armed with the toasted mallows that had on occasion reduced the two grown men in front of him to squabbling three year olds, Gibbs' eyes narrowed as he spied the complete lack of sports the television was currently spewing.

" _The game,_ boy's, where is it?" he growled.

Turning to him, and as if both of them had suddenly attached their brains at the frontal lobes, both chorused.

" _Abby_ , boss…"

Growling, the elder man threw himself into his armchair and tried to enjoy whatever garbage was replacing his beloved match.

"You're the ones who are supposed to be being punished here, not me, you get that right?" he shot at the two engrossed agent's in much more annoyance than he actually felt. He sighed once more as his words fell on deaf ears.

He actually wasn't annoyed at all.

As he observed the contended expressions on both kid's face, he smiled to himself.

As long as they were happy, he was happy.

….

TBC

…

A/N: Ok, so shameless fluff filled chapter! I don't like them being in trouble _all_ the time! Thanks for everyone's suggestions regarding Abby's rebellion. I think I've decided on her not breaking her grounding, but getting into some other form of trouble. Also, DiNozzo Senior is going to make a brief appearance soon, a sort of Gibbs V Biological Dad situation!


	12. Sister, Sister

"So I'm free? I'm totally free? I'm free in the way those little lollipops they have in banks are free?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes and smiled his crooked smile at his unashamedly obvious favourite.

"Yeah Abb's, you're free" he confirmed gently, whilst silently eyeing the trash can to count how many caf-pow's she'd had.

Throwing her arms around the older man and squeezing the air out of him, Abby squealed in delight.

"You're the best Gibbs" she squeaked into his chest.

Snorting and wincing due to his lack of oxygen, the team leader gently prised the vice grip from his naval.

Holding the excited lab rat at arm's length, he smiled fondly at her.

"No need to thank me Abb's, you did your time and with minimal fuss. Proud of you."

Beaming up at her favourite silver fox, Abby nodded in response before frowning somewhat.

Seeing this, Gibbs tilted his head and looked at her curiously.

"What's the problem?"

"The boys…" she murmured, the happiness slipping from her face.

"The boys?" Gibbs repeated in confusion.

"They're not" she replied.

"They're not what?"

Sighing, Abby frowned deeper.

"Free."

Gibbs looked at her silently for a moment before letting out a sigh of his own.

"No Abb's they're not, but they will be soon so don't you worry about it. Plus, they have me run ragged running Hotel Gibbs, so I can assure you that they're not suffering, which is more than can be said for _me_."

"Trust me" he added with a snort.

Brightening up instantly, the pigtails bobbed merrily as the analyst nodded vigorously.

"Do you wanna come to this _amazing_ concert that's on tonight then?" Abby asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Rolling his eyes, Gibbs kissed her gently on the forehead before turning to leave her lab.

As the doors swished open, he threw a "have fun, but be safe" over his shoulder and was gone, smiling as he heard Abby begin to arrange her night out with the bowling nuns.

Sweeping into the bull pen, his good mood instantly evaporated when he saw Ziva missing from her desk.

Again.

Growling to himself, he turned to face McGee and DiNozzo who were studiously attempting to avoid his gaze.

"Where is Ziva?" he barked at the two field agents, who in response cast furtive looks at the other, clearly torn between protecting themselves from a verbal tirade and covering for the AWOL Officer David.

Knowing which one he could make cave first, Gibbs rounded on McGee.

"Where is she?"

Tim licked his lips nervously and looked at Tony for help, who quickly buried his head in the nearest available file. Sighing, the junior agent looked up at the glowering Gibbs tentatively.

"Uhh…I think she said, well I think…uhm…"

Gibbs tilted his head in frustration at his junior agent, arching a threatening eyebrow in his direction.

"Fancy a week's worth of cold cases to keep you company at night, McGee?"

Scowling, Tim shook his head.

"No boss."

"Then answer my question, Tim. Today, if it's convenient for you."

Sighing, the younger man squirmed in his chair but admitted defeat.

"She's gone to run down some more leads on the Conway investigation. She should be back any minute now though boss, she said she wouldn't be long."

Feeling his left eye twitch in irritation, Gibbs gave a swift nod and swept from the bullpen towards MTAC, shouting over his shoulder that he was to be informed the minute the Mossad officer set foot in the Navy Yard.

"Well done McSnitchy" Tony shot across the desks when it was safe to do so "she's definitely in for it now. Hope you have your arrangements in order, because she is going to end you."

Tim glared at the senior agent. He felt guilty enough as it was.

"I didn't see you coming up with an excuse to cover for her Tony. What was I meant to do? He asked me a direct question; forgive me for not wanting to repeat the _zero tolerance_ lesson."

Feeling a bit guilty himself for not intervening, Tony offered an apologetic smile.

There was no way he could blame the probie for not wanting to be caught in a lie with their boss again.

"I'm sure she'll talk her way out of it. Boss man has a soft spot for our Ziva" he comforted, which was met by a vigorous nodding of the junior agents head.

"Yeah…yeah you're right, she'll be fine."

Both agents went back to work, hoping that Ziva would turn up soon and that she had some kind of excuse at the ready.

Sure enough, an hour or so later the elevator dinged and the young agent appeared looking slightly flushed and flustered. Throwing herself down behind her desk, she pretended not to notice the x ray stares that were drifting over the bull pen from her teammates.

"Ziva…" Tony began in what he hoped were comforting tones.

"What" she barked in response, clearly irate and in the midst of beating her uncooperative computer.

Wincing slightly at the abrupt tones, Tony looked at Tim for help.

Who buried _his_ head in the nearest file in response.

Sighing and admitting he deserved no less, the senior field agent licked his lips and tried again.

"Uhh…well, boss wants to see you right away. He might…uhm, know…that you were out working the Conway case."

The look that she shot him pierced his soul and made its decimating way through his vital organs.

This chick had _got_ to be the scariest and yet, most beautiful woman he'd ever known.

"He…knows?" she repeated in the lilting tones, tilting her head at the stuttering Tony, much like a lion would its prey.

"How could he know? He must have been… _informed,_ no?" she crooned venomously.

Staring at her for a moment, Tony made his decision.

Brotherhood, be damned.

Pointing a dramatic finger at the shamefaced McGee, he offered the lion juicer bait.

"He did it. He told Gibbs."

Turning her attention to a defensively poised Tim, Ziva raised an eyebrow before smiling.

"Do not worry Tim. I do not expect you to lie to Gibbs for me. We are still cold."

Looking at her nervously, the junior agent returned the smile slowly.

"You mean cool? We're still cool?"

Rolling her eyes and shrugging her shoulders, Ziva nodded.

"Col, cool…I don't know why you - "

What she didn't know, they never found out.

Gibbs had returned.

Barking orders at Tim and Tony regarding their current investigation, the team leader stalked off towards the elevator with a grim look at the liaison officer, indicating in no uncertain terms that Ziva were to accompany him.

This she did with a defensive poise and a scowl.

As the elevator doors slid shut, Tony and Tim exchanged worried glances.

Their resident assassin's attitude was _not_ going to do her any favours.

Letting the lift make its way through one or two floors, Gibbs reached out and hit the kill switch.

Turning to face a maddeningly glowering Ziva, he leant back against the doors with his arms folded.

"Take that look off your face right now, you're in enough trouble" he instructed firmly.

Sighing, Ziva obediently forced her features into a more respectful expression.

"Want to explain to me why, when I come into the bullpen, after expressly forbidding you from working the Conway investigation, you're not there. Because _you're working the Conway investigation"_

"I told you Gibbs. It might just be the 'Conway investigation' to you, but I _know_ David Conway. I have known him for a long time, before I ever came to this country. He is a good man. He did not do this, and I cannot stand by whilst his life is to torn to pies" she replied fiercely.

"Pieces."

"Huh?"

"Life is torn to _piece_ s. Not pies."

"Yes. Pieces then. Whilst his life is torn to tiny little pieces, for no reason."

Sighing, Gibbs took in the stance of his agent.

She was pissed. He knew it was especially hard to deal with her when was in this frame of mind, but he had to try.

"I know that he is a friend of yours. I know you go back. I know that. However, I have told you that you are _not_ permitted to work the case. It's local PD's. There is no navy connection. You are putting yourself in danger by running around without authorisation. Anything can happen in those situations, and you know it. Which, by the way, is why I said no in the _first place_."

"But - "

"No buts Ziva. You do _not_ disobey direct instructions. I don't care what the reason is. What if something had happened to you? How would we even know? You very conveniently left your cell behind. Or what if something had happened to McGee, DiNozzo or Abby and I needed you? You know damn well never to be unreachable. It's selfish, irresponsible and plain reckless. You got that?"

Opening her mouth to protest, Ziva squirmed slightly.

She _hadn't_ thought about the possibility that her team would need her or about one of them being hurt, with her being unreachable. She had deliberately left her phone behind so it couldn't be traced, as the highly irate Gibbs clearly knew. It _was_ selfish, irresponsible and plain reckless.

"Got it" she said softly, he poise losing some of its defensive stiffness.

"Where exactly have you been then?" Gibbs demanded, noting the change in her posture with satisfaction.

Shuffling slightly, the normally self assured agent looked at him beseechingly.

Seeing the man wasn't going to bend, she shuffled even more.

"I was at…the victim's house."

Not surprised, but still angered further, Gibbs nodded.

"Breaking and entering, I suppose?"

The shuffling was now at its peak.

"Yes Gibbs."

"Do you have _any_ idea how dangerous that was? On your own? With no credentials, no back up and absolutely no legal basis for being there?" the team leader thundered, hearing his voice rising, but being unable to prevent it.

The now abashed looking Ziva merely stared at her feet, squirming in earnest.

"Answer me."

"I didn't think" the young agent replied honestly, and in a small voice.

"That much, is clear" Gibbs answered grimly.

Looking up guiltily, Ziva admitted defeat.

She was in the wrong and she knew it.

"Sorry Gibbs. I should not have disobeyed you, I will leave it to the local police and assist only on a personal level."

Sighing, the team leader nodded wearily.

"Good. Now, come here" he said sternly.

Ziva looked up in alarm.

"Gibbs, I - "

"Come here" he repeated, his eyes narrowing.

Groaning, the young agent crossed the elevator and winced when her boss took a firm hold of her upper arm, and turned her sharply to the side.

Anticipating instantly what was going to happen, she closed her eyes in chagrin.

The swats echoed loudly in the metallic makeshift office, reverberating around the small room.

Gibbs delivered the impromptu and brief spanking diligently, ensuring that his stubborn agent's backside would be smarting when she returned to her desk. Applying a firm volley of swats to Ziva's sit spot's by tipping her forwards slightly, he ended the quick correction with two smacks that were hard enough to draw a small yelp from the usually stoic officer.

Instantly letting go of her arm and instead resting a hand on her shoulder, he drew her in for a brief hug to which she as always, made an exception to her "no need for affection" rule for.

As he let her go, Gibbs tipped her chin up gently to level eye contact between them.

"That was your _final_ warning Ziva. You disobey me again on this, and I _will_ reacquaint your backside with my belt. Is that absolutely clear?"

Squirming once more and remembering her last _conversation_ with her boss' belt, the agent nodded instantly.

"Clear Gibbs, it is clear."

Smiling in response and ruffling the girls hair, earning himself a death glare in the process, a tired Jethro flipped the elevators switch, jolting it back into life.

"Good. Now, go and help McGee and DiNozzo with the new leads we have, and stop turning my hair grey."

Ziva snorted.

"I suspect you were born with grey hair Gibbs, no?" she teased as the doors opened on their floor.

Throwing a half hearted glare at her, the elder agent rolled his eyes.

"DiNozzo is a bad influence on you, now go on and get to work."

Both agents took their seats at their respective desks, Ziva covering up her wince as she did so with impressive skill. Tony and Tim were relieved to see her looking alive and well, and the rest of the day passed without further incident.

An hour or so later, the "wrap it up" order was issued, interspersed with bickering between McGee and DiNozzo about the instigator of a rubber band war, which was further drowned out by Gibbs bellowing at the two of them.

The Mossad liaison made a grateful escape, ducking under Tim's arm as he attempt to scientifically prove he had not flicked the rubber band that was caught in Tony's hair.

 _Children_ she muttered disdainfully, before heading home.

Two or so hours later and Ziva was trying and failing to concentrate on her run. As she pounded through the leafy suburbs, she couldn't get the anguished face of David Conway out of her mind's eye. He was a decent man. He had helped her. He had helped her at no benefit to himself, and she could not return the favour.

Her eyes burned with anger as she thought of the unjust charges of attempted murder being levelled at her old friend. They burned further as she thought of the damage to his home and threats to his life he had endured whilst he was on parole.

Innocent until proven guilty indeed, she thought to herself grimly as she increased her gait in a vain attempt to run off her frustrations.

It didn't work. Her anger at the lacklustre investigation being run by local law enforcement made her writhe in rage. As far as they were concerned, they had their man, and had no intentions of searching any further.

Her introverted ramblings were interrupted as she felt her cell vibrate in her pocket.

Slowing to a jog and pulling out her earphones she saw with a jolt that it was _David_.

Answering the phone and leaning against a nearby tree, it took only two minutes for her running based flush to drain from her cheeks. Murmuring frantically into her cell, she thought rapidly.

Hanging up, she wrestled with herself.

Crouching to her knees and resting her head on them, she fought to remain calm and collected.

Making a split second decision, she flipped the phone open once more.

After four rings, it made the connection.

Shouting to be heard above the roar that was streaming through the phone, she ignored the looks of concern passerby's were throwing at her.

Eventually the call recipient moved to a quieter area, and she returned her voice to normal levels.

"…..Abby?"

….."I need your help, please, I need your help."

"Sure Ziva! What can I do for my favourite lethal weapon?"

….."Abby, listen to me, I need your help…but… you cannot tell Gibbs, he cannot know."

"Ziva…."

….."I know Abby, I know. I would not ask it if it was not important, I'm begging you."

"Look Ziva, I don't want to get into - ."

….."An innocent man's life is on the line."

"What can I do?"

A few moments later the call was disconnected, and a plan was in motion.

A dangerous plan.

Ziva's line of vision swooned in and out of focus as she thought about was she was about to do.

It blurred dangerously when she thought about was she was dragging Abby into.

Closing her eyes firmly, she got a handle on herself.

David was counting on her.

She owed him.

Gibbs would never find out.

…

TBC

…

A/N: So, this is the take I've come up with for the girl's plot! Please let me know if there is anything you would like to see in the upcoming few chapters. I've already had a few great ideas sent to me that I will either build into this story, or a new one which I will be starting soon.

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!


	13. Jurisdictional Jeopardy

Ziva tried to retain her own composure, whilst simultaneously attempting to stop Abby from completely losing her mind.

"Ziva are you _crazy?_ Why did I let you talk me into this. Gibbs is going to have a coronary."

"Abby - "

"He'll _die_ Ziva. He's at least eighty eight years old. He will _die_ if he has a coronary."

"Look, Abby - "

"Murder! This is the same thing as murder! We are _murderers_ "

Sighing, the Mossad officer reached out and grasped the hysterical analyst's shoulders firmly and gave her a firm, but gentle shake.

"Stop it. Gibbs will not die. The man is too stubborn to die. It will be fine. You _must_ calm down now, ok?"

Gulping somewhat, Abby nodded and did her very best to get a handle on herself.

"I hate going behind his back like this" she whimpered.

Nodding, Ziva felt a pang of guilt for dragging her friend into her mess.

"I know, and I am sorry I got you involved but can you see how unjust it would be to allow this persecution of David to continue?"

Again, the analyst's pigtails bobbed vigorously as she nodded in agreement.

"We play this right, David will be cleared and Gibbs will be none the wiser. It is what you call…how do you say it, a win win?" Ziva reassured, before squeezing Abby gently once more and departing her lab.

Turning back to her computer, the young scientist sighed and scrunched her eyes tightly shut.

Her silver fox might be many things, but "none the wiser" was definitely not one of them.

This wasn't going to end well.

The next day dawned and both girls' nerves increased as their plan loomed large.

Ziva was quiet and withdrawn and not at all her usual self.

This did not go unnoticed by Gibbs who eyed her curiously as she worked diligently at her desk, having given up trying to stem be bickering going on between McGee and DiNozzo.

Evidently feeling his gaze upon her, the young officer looked up and offered him a small smile.

Not her usual confident and easy grin.

Furrowing his brow and returning to his files, the team leader made a mental note to get Ziva on her own and make a few gentle enquiries as to her headspace.

Sighing, he realised he'd forgotten to bring Abby her noontime Caf-Pow and set off towards her lab before she came looking for him in caffeine deprived rage.

Breezing into her lab, he immediately noted the complete lack of music.

Odd.

Spying his favourite buried in a heap of files of her own, he gently deposited her drink on her desk and landed a quick kiss to the top of her head.

To his extreme surprise, she didn't beam up at him as she usually did.

To the contrary, she positively balked when she registered his presence and her eyes widened with…something.

"You ok Abb's?" Gibbs asked immediately, feeling concern flood him.

Physically wheeling her chair away from him, the young woman nodded her head earnestly.

"Yup fine, totally fine. All fine here. Everything is…fine" she gabbled, deliberately not looking at him.

Gibbs was chagrined when he took a step closer to his scientist, she again propelled her chair further away from him.

"Abby?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Something going on that I should know about?"

"What makes you say that? God Gibbs, get off my case for once would you! Go bother someone else for a change and leave me alone, I don't have time for your social calls right now!"

The team leader felt himself gape slightly at the hunched form of his lab rat.

Had any other member of his team had spoken to him that way, they'd be nursing a very sore head if not a sore backside.

With Abby, he wasn't angry.

He was hurt. He was pretty _damn_ hurt.

Swallowing to cover up his wounded feelings, he merely nodded before turning on his heel and sweeping from Abby's lab without a further word.

Leaning his head against the cold metal of the elevator, he racked his brains to try and figure out if he had done or said something to upset the usually buoyant Abby. He came up empty. He decided he would go back down to the lab tomorrow when she had had time to cool off from whatever was bothering her, and sort it out. He'd had DiNozzo, Ziva and hell even McGee be sullen and snappy with him before, but never _Abby_ and he was therefore nonplussed about how to handle it.

It was perhaps a testament to his bruised feelings, that he didn't put Ziva's uncharacteristic absentmindedness and Abby's equally uncharacteristic waspishness together, to come up with the only possible answer.

The two of them were up to something.

But he didn't, and merely slunk back to his own desk like a puppy that had been yelled at for being a puppy and…sulked.

Leroy Jethro Gibbs was sulking.

He didn't even notice the inquisitorial glances being directed at him by McGee and DiNozzo who had dispensed with their squabbling to survey their boss.

Tony checked his messages, knowing Tim would find a safe way to communicate with him.

"Does he look…weird to you?"

Looking up once more at their boss, Tony began to type.

"He looks almost like he's sulking? _Sulking_ McGee, I think I've seen it all now"

Peeking up at the older man furtively, Tim's fingers flew across the keyboard.

"That's definitely a pout. I didn't think it was _possible_ for boss to sulk?"

Tony's attempt at replying was cut short, as a call came in from dispatch.

Both boys winced and Ziva nearly leapt out of her skin when the previously quite placid Gibbs had positively bellowed at them to grab their gear and move their god damned asses.

The rest of the day passed in the same fashion.

Gibbs was a complete and utter nightmare.

Both the two boys and Ziva had been well headslapped over the last few hours, and were all currently hosting pouts of their own as they sat at their desk running down leads and fending off scathing comments from their boss.

When the day came to a close, Tony and Tim breathed sighs of relief and resolved to stay in their room as far away as possible from the irate Gibbs for the evening.

Ziva on the other hand didn't feel quite so relieved and felt her pulse quicken as she tidied up her desk at the end of the day.

She watched as Gibbs growled something to her teammates who paled and nodded in response, and felt _herself_ pale as he rounded on her next.

"As for _you_ Ziva, I don't know where your head's been at today, but it hasn't been with the job. Whatever it is, I want it gone by tomorrow, or we will be having a _chat_. Clear?"

Ziva murmured the required "yes Gibbs" and fled from the bull pen, hot on the heels of her two teammates.

As they all reached the safety of the elevator, they let out a collective sigh of relief.

Both McGee and DiNozzo turned to her confusion when she didn't exit the lift with them at their stop.

"I have to go and speak to Abby" she explained evasively, which to her relief they both accepted and bade her goodnight. As the doors closed once more she caught the tail end of their survival plan to get through the evening at home with Gibbs, and she grimaced in sympathy for them. She had been surprisingly non mocking when she eventually figured out that both Tony and Tim were confined to their boss's home.

Stepping off the elevator, she instantly noticed the distinct lack of music and frowned. Hurrying into the lab she groaned when she saw a tear stained Abby sitting on the floor, clutching Bert the Hippo, looking the pinnacle of misery.

"What has happened? Why are you crying? Are you hurt?"

Looking up, the young scientist let out a wavering gulp and her eyes filled up once more.

Stammering and stuttering, she bit out an explanation of how she had flared up on Gibbs because she felt so guilty about deceiving him, and the hurt that she had seen on his face as her mean words at hit home.

Realising what had turned their boss's mood so sour, Ziva groaned guiltily herself.

Gibbs could take that kind of lip from the rest of them and make them regret it, however with Abby, she knew it would have merely upset him. Deeply.

Crouching down on the floor, she threw an arm around the distraught Abby and held her close to her.

"It will be ok. We will get this done now, and tomorrow you can make it up with Gibbs, ok?"

Sniffling, Abby nodded and began to stand up.

"Let's just get this over and done with Ziva, because I swear I can't take much more."

Nodding, the Mossad officer threw an arm around the girl once more and steered her gently from her lab.

Two hours later they were holed up in Abby's apartment, and running through the plan one final time before heading out.

"So, the man who called David - "

…."the one who's framing him" Abby interjected with a nod of her head.

"Yes. The one who is framing him. He called to say that he would meet him at the parking lot at eight pm. That is an hour and a half from now. We will be stationed in your hearse, with the pre prepared wreaths already inside so it looks like it is attending the funeral that _is_ happening across the street at seven thirty."

"You will be monitoring the cell phone activity and recording all movements of the suspect, whilst I apprehend him after the money is exchanged. I will hold him until local PD arrives, and then we shall slip away just before they get close enough to identify either of us. The hearse will not be stopped. You will remove all our digital fingerprints from the recordings, and I shall send them to the local police captain, who cannot be trusted to run this op himself. He is too biased. We will still have had officially nothing to do with the investigation. Have I covered everything?"

Abby pondered the speech for a moment, her eyes screwed up in concentration.

"Yup" she agreed slowly. "That's everything I can think of."

Ziva nodded in agreement and grimaced when she saw the sadness still pooled in the usually bright eyes.

"Gibbs will forgive you Abby. He can never stay upset when _you_ are concerned, it is one of the benefits of being the favourite no?"

Smiling slightly, the tech nodded and resolved to put Gibbs out of her mind until tomorrow where she would hug her words back out of him and ply him with apology coffee.

The two left quickly, staggering somewhat under the weight of all the recording and tracking equipment. Piling into the hearse that proclaimed great sorrow for the dearly departed "Jim", both girls' were soon on the way to the now infamous car lot.

Swinging the vehicle into lot and parking expertly where they had planned, they quickly ducked down into their makeshift observation centre.

They didn't have long to wait before receiving word from David and watched as his car also swung into the lot.

Abby had captured all cell activity in the area and was astutely recording all movements.

Ten minutes later and the framing party had also arrived.

Ziva clutched her gun and steadied her breathing as she waited for the exchange. She smiled when the damning dialogue of the blackmailing man could be heard loud and clear inside the hearse thanks to Abby's superb bugging abilities.

The exchange was then made.

Ziva leapt from the hearse and raced across the lot, shouting her federal agent status as she did so with her firearm raised.

She didn't see the second suspect in the car. She ducked expertly as a haze of bullets rang out from the blackmailer's vehicle. She barely had time to register the fact that Abby was out of the hearse and running towards her, because the car raced past her narrowly avoiding her and causing her to jump out of the way, slamming her elbow down heavily on the pavement as she did so.

She looked up immediately and wildly for Abby, who was also lying down on the pavement.

Her stomach gave an unmerciful lurch as she raced towards her, fearing the absolute worst.

The relief that radiated through the body made her shake as she instantly assessed that Abby had suffered a similar skin wound to her own, no doubt sustained in the same manner.

Reeling wildly, her jaw dropped when she saw David expertly restraining the first suspect and sighed another deep breath of relief.

It was short lived.

Sirens soon pierced the air and she groaned as she realised they were in a heavily patrolled area, and rampant gun fire was sure to draw attention.

She saw the colour pale from the already ghostly Abby's face as she too was coming to the same conclusion.

There was definitely no time to get away.

They couldn't leave David with a non secured suspect and they were nowhere near ready to make a hasty exit.

Resolving to talk her way out of the situation, Ziva squared her shoulders and set off towards the now arrived squad car, holding up her credentials as she did so.

Half an hour or so passed and the blackmailing suspect had been taken into custody, and both Abby and Ziva were scowling as they sat in the standard procedure ambulance having their cuts tended to with antiseptic.

Having taken both women's details and statements, the questioning police officer was about to send them on their way with directions to be available for further talks tomorrow, when he was prevented from doing so by a junior officer.

"Sir. That was the captain on the line, I was briefing him as to everything that had happened here and he went ballistic. He says these two are not to leave, and that their boss is on his way for them. He called him as soon as he hung up from me. Apparently they were under strict orders to stay away from this case."

With that, the young police man smirked at the now pale faced and horrified looking Ziva and Abby and turned on his heel.

 _Serves them right_ he thought smugly, _damn know it all feds._

Chuckling at the looks on the two girls' faces, the questioning officer gallantly opened the back door of his patrol car.

"In you get then ladies. Might as well be comfortable whilst you wait. I don't know what goes on over there at NCIS, but if any of _my_ people pulled this stunt, I'd like to think they were treated well before they you know… _died_."

With that, he closed the door on the speechless two and still chuckling, set off after his own team, glad that he didn't have the managerial issues this…Gibbs fellow had.

Abby instantly began crying, dropping her head into her hands in misery.

For once, Ziva felt like doing the same, but point blank refused to do so.

She knew she had been outrageously disobedient, and she would accept whatever punishment Gibbs dished out for that.

However, she felt positively nauseous about Abby being beside her in this patrol car.

She shouldn't be here.

It was all her fault, she had dragged her with her into this fiasco and she couldn't see how she could get her out.

Resolving there and then to shamelessly plead the sobbing analyst's case with Gibbs, she tightened her jaw in an effort to retain her composure. Placing a protective arm around Abby, they waited silently for Gibbs to arrive.

They didn't have to wait long.

They heard, rather than saw the car enter the lot.

The screeching tires left them in no doubt who was driving.

They heard him bellow across the lot at the shocked looking patrol officers.

"Where _are_ they?"

As the uniformed officers pointed wordlessly to the stationary patrol car, both girls' gulped as Gibbs turned on his heel and strode towards it, a murderous look on his face.

Wrenching open the door, he ran a frantic eye over both of them obviously searching for injuries. Finding none of any appreciable concern, he became visually apoplectic with rage as he surveyed the two cringing teammates.

"Get your backsides into my car this instant, you have eight seconds."

With this, he slammed the door shut and stormed across the lot to the aghast looking cops.

Ziva recovered first.

"Come on Abby, we have to move now…come on, out you get."

The two made it into their boss' car in seven seconds, Ziva having to physically propel the still sobbing Abby into it.

They watched as Gibbs grew more and more engrossed in conversation with the chief officer on scene, and winced as they saw his shoulders tighten more and more with fury.

As Gibbs shook the officer's hand and stormed back towards his car, Abby let out a whimper.

"It will be ok Abby, it will be ok" Ziva soothed, not believing a single syllable of her own words.

It was most certainly _not_ going to be ok.

The cool air hit them in the face as they sat perched in the back as Gibbs threw the driver's door open, and slid behind the wheel.

Glancing back at them as he reversed out of the lot, his eyes were burning with anger and disappointment.

Both girls opened their mouths instinctively.

"Gibbs, we - "

…."will keep your mouths _closed_ if you know what's good for you."

…

TBC


	14. Doctor's Orders

Without killing the engine and without turning to look at the two silent and horrified girls, Gibbs' growl seemed particularly ferocious in the small confines of the car.

"Get into that house now, both of you. Abby, go to your room. Ziva, find a corner in the living room."

When it became apparent that their boss had no intention of getting out of the car also, both troublemakers looked at each other in confusion.

Sensing this, the team leader ground his teeth in irritation.

"For once in your lives, would you just do as you're god damn told!"

He hadn't meant to shout at them, but shout he did and both girls' scrambled from the car in response and scampered into the house as instructed.

Without a backwards glance, Gibbs roared the car into life again and out of his driveway.

As he drove he felt the familiar insecurities he had always felt about his team in times like this. He swallowed hard in a vain attempt to get a handle on himself.

The voices in his head were however, relentless.

He couldn't outdrive them. They bored into every fibre of his consciousness.

Without knowingly intending to, he soon found himself outside Ducky's house. Killing the engine, and leaning his head on the steering wheel he let out a loud groan. He instinctively exited the car and was soon knocking on his old friend's door, before his brain even registered he was doing so.

It took only a few moments for it to swing open, and for the faint strains of classical music to pour out.

"Jethro" the doctor exclaimed, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

When Gibbs didn't speak, the medical examiner took a closer look at him and immediately opened the door widely in an unspoken gesture for him to come inside.

Having seen his friend's car in the lot, he opted away from the traditional bourbon and set a pot of strong coffee on to brew, hearing Gibbs sit himself down at the kitchen table as he did so.

Turning around, he grew even more alarmed as he took in the ashen pallor and general look of intense distress that was etched into every line of the former marines face.

"What is it Jethro? What has happened?"

When Gibbs merely looked at him with a pained expression, the doctor's pulse began to quicken.

"My dear man, you must open your mouth and tell me whatever is the matter. Has someone been injured? Anthony?"

Gibbs opened and closed his mouth for several seconds before choking out an answer.

An answer the good doctor never expected to hear fall out of his friend's mouth.

"I don't think I can lead my team anymore, Duck. I think it would be better…safer, for them to be transferred to new teams under a different boss."

Sitting down heavily across from the paled Gibbs, Ducky gaped at him at a loss for words.

A first, for Dr Mallard.

Eventually pulling himself together, Ducky stared at the anguished man closely.

"What in good heavens are you talking about Jethro?"

Drawing in a deep breath, Gibbs set about describing the past month in full to his friend. Starting off with Tony, Tim and Abby at the forbidden crime scene, before moving on to first Tony and then Tim's disobedience regarding their confinement. He had to pause for breath as he launched in an explanation of tonight's saga concerning Ziva and Abby.

When he finished, he looked even more miserable than he had done at the beginning, which the doctor silently marvelled at as being a feat in itself.

"I can't lead them anymore Duck. They don't _listen_ to me. I don't know is it because I've gotten soft in my old age, or because I set a bad example, or both. All I know is, they would be…safer, with someone else. Someone not so close. I'm too…attached to them, and its showing in their behaviour. The behaviour that could get them killed. I have to take a step back and let someone else take over."

Ducky felt the familiar strains of amusement and exasperation as he surveyed his old and closest friend.

Deciding in a split second on the best approach to make the man see reason, he pondered for a moment before answering.

"Hmm let me see now. Yes, yes…you may be quite right Jethro. I mean to say dear fellow, your team have been with you for a very long time now. Perhaps a little shake up is in everybody's best interests. You know how time can stagnate even the clearest of ponds. Yes indeed, when one weighs up the pros and cons, I do believe splitting them up and sending them to different teams may be best all round."

He was interrupted by the shrill sound of the coffee pot announcing its readiness.

"Coffee, Jethro?"

Smiling to himself slightly at the ferocious expression that was currently making its way across Gibbs' face, Ducky stood and busied himself with fetching two steaming mugs of coffee. Placing one down in front of a still scowling Jethro, he seated himself once more and cradled his cup.

"So, where were we? Ah yes, reassignments. Let me see now, I know Anthony didn't particularly like his time as Agent Afloat, but I do think it built his character rather wonderfully. Young Timothy of course has his pick of assignments, perhaps he could be transferred to a white collar taskforce that would best utilise his technological prowess."

He hid another smile as the frown staring back at his was reaching epidemic levels.

Now, Ziva…she is the conundrum, isn't she Jethro? Hmm, let me see now. Perhaps it would be best just to end her liaison position with NCIS and have her return to Israel. Yes, I think that would be for the best. When it comes to young Abigail, like Timothy, she really is the cat that got the cream. Perhaps she could accept one of those many private sector contracts she is continually offered."

He had to bite his lip to prevent the smile as the small strains of growling were now escaping a thunderous looking Jethro.

"Of course those are just ideas, you'd really have to talk to the director about how best to spread the surplus."

This got a reaction. As he knew it would.

"Surplus?!" Gibbs thundered, slamming his cup down angrily.

"They are not a 'surplus' Duck, they're my god damned team."

Merely peering serenely out over his wire rimmed spectacles, the doctor gave a sage nod.

"Of course they are, you'll have to excuse my vernacular Jethro. Now, with regards to a new team, do you think you'll be able to adequately staff your department from this year's intake of recruits or do you think you will have to put out some inter agency feelers?"

Gaping slightly, Gibbs spluttered and stammered in indignation.

"You make them sound like spare car parts Duck."

Shrugging his shoulders slightly, the doctor gave a small smile.

"My apologies Jethro, I'm afraid I can be a bit blunt when it comes to logistics. But, if as you say, you have failed your team, then I can scarcely see a better way of approaching it."

The coffee cup slammed down once more.

"Failed?"

Nodding serenely, Ducky had to draw on his years of mastering appropriate bedside manners to keep from bursting into laughter.

"Yes Jethro" he agreed calmly, " _failed_."

The glare that was sent across the table would have floored a lesser man, but Dr Mallard continued completely unfazed.

"I mean to say, if you cannot discipline your people and have them follow your command, what use are you all to each other."

The coffee mug suffered another rude blow.

"I discipline my people just fine!"

"Really?" Ducky scoffed, "my dear fellow it doesn't seem like your trademark headslaps are nearly enough to keep that lot in line."

Gibbs glowered at him with an intensity that would have curdled the freshest of milk.

"They get a lot more than the odd headslap when they step out of line Duck, and you know it."

The doctor raised a purposefully disdainful eyebrow.

"If your discipline was as effective as you think Jethro, then your people wouldn't have stepped out of line in the _fir_ st place. Surely you can see that. Now about taking applications - "

"Everyone steps out of line now and again Duck, no one's perfect" Gibbs interrupted angrily.

Nodding, the silently chuckling doctor waved a dismissive hand.

"Your staff seems to step out of line more times than any other in the agency combined."

The withering look that flew across the table was nothing short of nuclear.

"My _staff_?" Gibbs growled angrily, and Ducky winced as finest bone china received yet another smashing blow against the table.

"Well yes Jethro, one has a staff when one is a department head. Now I know an excellent candidate to replace Tony, if you'd - "

He got no further.

Gibbs was on his feet.

He was on his feet, and bellowing.

"What the hell is coming outta your mouth Duck. These are my _people_ you're talking about. _My_ people. No one else's. _Replace_ Tony? Are you out of your god damned mind? Send Ziva back to Israel? Tim to some computer dungeon and Abby to some corporate hell hole?!"

"Jethro, I - "

"My people are going _nowhere,_ ya got that Duck?. Sure they mightn't always do as they're told, but I'm always there to make them regret it. I didn't fail them. Sure I mightn't be perfect, but I do the best that I can. That doesn't mean I can't…that I can't look after them. They need me. They're just kids, all of them, they're just kids. You think I can just parcel them up and send them off because they disobeyed me? Are you _crazy?"_

Ducky couldn't take one more moment.

The laughter that escaped him filled the kitchen and the halls that lay beyond.

Gibbs stood and felt his brow furrow in confusion as he stared at the giggling doctor.

"What's so funny?" he eventually snarled.

Wiping his wet eyes with his handkerchief, Ducky gestured to the chair that the recently enraged Gibbs had leapt out of.

"Sit, dear fellow, sit" he chortled.

Eying him mutinously, Gibbs eventually lowered himself back into the chair.

Still chuckling, Ducky finished drying his eyes and restored his handkerchief.

"I'm laughing, my dear Jethro, because you are as predictable as Mother's obsession with the neighbours pool boy."

As the glower increased, the doctor held his hands up in a placating gesture.

"I had to goad you into getting past your self deprecating, so you could _then_ get past that very overdeveloped sense of guilt you have and remember that yes, they are very young, and yes they do and will stray out of bounds."

"Duck, I - "

"The fact that that _do_ stray out of bounds is no reflection on the trust they have in you Jethro" Ducky continued sternly, drowning out the other mans objections.

Judging by the sudden uncomfortable squirming on the other side of the table, the doctor knew his words hit home.

"Thought I wouldn't figure out the true cause of all this Jethro?" he asked gently.

The former marine looked sheepish and nodded, before another look of misery crossed his face.

"They don't _trust_ me, Duck. Not one of them came to me when they needed help. Instead they all hared off on their own and put their god damned necks on the line in the process. Am I really that much of a hardass with them that they feel they can't talk to me… that they can't trust me?"

Ducky had to fight not to cross the room and drag the stubborn marine into a hug.

"Jethro" he began quietly, hoping his friend could hear the sincerity in his voice.

"The fact that they didn't come to you is of no reflection of their trust in you. They are young, wilful and impulsive. I see the way they all look up to you, whether you care to admit or not. You are one of the most important people in each of those young people's lives Jethro. It does not do to sit here and dwell on the why's and why not's of the situation. You do them a disservice."

"I - "

"You are as much of a father to Anthony as that boy has ever known. He idolises you. He would do anything for you. Young Timothy who was not quite as blighted in the biological father department, is not far behind. You have brought that young man on leaps and bounds and he too, would do anything in this world for you.

"Duck, its - "

"Ziva, who is as guarded a young lady as I have ever met, opens up with you. She allows you in. That is a precious gift in itself Jethro. She has been conditioned and trained not to feel, and never _ever_ to trust. Yet she trusts you. She trusts you more than anyone else I believe. Not to mention the fact she killed her own _brother_ to save _you_ "

"You don't - "

"Abigail would no doubt do hard labour in some awful penitentiary if it meant it were to save you from some form of ill fate. She loves you. And you, her. It truly is that simple."

"They're - "

"You _must_ heed my words Jethro. These people are as much your children as Kelly ever was. Do not betray their trust in you by believing they have none."

"Alright, I get it" Gibbs eventually yelled, in an attempt to get word in edgeways.

Also, in an attempt to blink away the tears in his eyes that had formed during Ducky's speech, which the good doctor had tactfully pretended not to notice.

"You do?" Ducky repeated calmly.

Nodding sheepishly and clutching his now safe cup, Gibbs squirmed slightly before sighing.

"Ok, maybe I was a bit…"

"Dramatic?" Ducky supplied helpfully.

Glowering half heartedly, Jethro gave a small nod.

"Thanks Duck" he said quietly, knowing that the doctor would hear the unspoken speech of gratitude in his few words.

"Anytime my dear fellow, anytime. Though I do confess myself blessed with young Mr Palmer, I barely have to raise my voice with the chap."

Snorting, Gibbs nodded his head.

"You don't know how lucky you are" he replied as he began to stand, "my lot are taking years off of my estimated lifespan."

"Your high intake of red meat and beer doesn't help either Jethro" Ducky immediately scolded.

Rolling his eyes, Gibbs gave another jerk of his head and reached out and uncharacteristically pulled his friend into a tight hug.

As he was released Ducky straightened his glasses and looked at Gibbs bemusedly.

"Since when were you so big on hugging Jethro?" he teased lightly.

Looking at him with an indefinable expression, Gibbs shrugged somewhat.

"Since you singlehandedly talked me out of making one of the biggest mistakes of my life, Duck."

Smiling broadly, the doctor gave a nod of thanks.

"Best be on my way now, all four of them are in my house and I'd rather not have to go house hunting at this hour of my life."

Snorting, Ducky nodded and saw his old friend to the door.

Grasping him on the shoulder he bid him a good night and watched as he made his way to his car.

"Now mind you don't be too hard on those girls Jethro, their hearts were in the right place."

Giving a very non committal wave of acknowledgement, Gibbs slipped into his car and kicked into life once more.

Except this time it was with a very different mind frame.

The voices that had accompanied him all the way to his friend home, had met their demise there.

As he pulled out on the motorway with a last honk of his horn, Gibbs felt much lighter than he could have ever dared to hope.

He could deal with his two girls.

Like he always did.

Then they could put the whole debacle behind them.

Till the next one came along.

Groaning already at the very thoughts of the next one, he swung his car back into his drive, an hour after he had left it.

Quickly entering his house, he grimaced when he saw Abby sitting on the edge of his living room sofa, talking quietly to Ziva who was mercifully nose first in the corner as he had instructed.

Shutting the door with a snap to alert her to his presence, he, as angry as he was, had to bite back a grin as to how high she jumped in the air.

"Gibbs! I - "

He cut her off with a glare and a come here motion.

Reluctantly she shuffled towards him, her eyes downcast and her face guilty.

Quickly grasping her upper arm, he turned her to her side.

The room was suddenly full with the sounds of hand meeting backside.

As he finished dishing out a quick volley of swats, Gibbs turned the squawking lab rat to face him.

"When I say, go to your room, I mean, _go to your room._ Is that clear?"

The frantic swinging of pigtails let him know it was clear.

With one last swat, he pointed up the staircase.

"Get your backside up those stairs. I will call you when I'm ready for you."

Releasing her arm, he watched as she fled the room and heard the distant sounds of her and Ziva's door snapping shut.

Throwing himself down in an armchair, he scrubbed a hand across his tired face.

Feeling a ridiculous amount of déjà vu strike him, he took in a deep breath.

"Alright Ziva, front and centre."

….

TBC

….

A/N: I know this is very Gibbs-centric, but I wanted to put in his feelings about the whole saga! Hope you enjoyed!


	15. These Ties that Bind

An almost suffocating silence had descended over Gibbs' living room as both he and his agent were seated and engaged in a silent staring competition, an unspoken battle of wills.

It was Ziva who broke first.

This alone let him know that she was self aware enough to appreciate the scale of her disobedience and deception.

As she looked at the ground and a dull red flush crept across her cheeks, Gibbs sighed heavily.

For the Mossad officer to look this guilty, she must be feeling a whole lot worse.

"Look at me, Ziva."

As usual, a direct and uncomplicated order yielded immediate response and her head snapped up to meet his eye level.

"You care to give me an explanation of just what the _hell_ you think you were doing tonight?"

A slight tremor broke through the tough exterior, and Ziva squirmed uncharacteristically in her seat.

"Ziva!"

The young woman cringed at the angry tones being directed towards her and her squirming increased.

"Do not blame Abby" she blurted out, anxious to get this point across whatever the hell happened to herself.

"I forced her to help me. You know how she has such a big heart. I used this fact to my advantage to secure her assistance tonight. I..." the usually flawlessly strong girl's voice broke, "I put her in great danger. She could have been _killed_ because of _me."_

Gibbs' jaw tightened as he listened to the outpouring of clear guilt that was coming from his youngest agent. It tightened further when the girl clearly had no qualms about the danger _she_ herself had been in.

"I didn't ask you about Abby. I asked you to explain to me what you thought gave you the licence to disobey me, put your life and career in danger and burst your way into a local PD case."

His voice was deathly calm now, and Ziva knew from experience that this was worse than his raised and angry tones

Shaking her head vehemently nonetheless, she dove in again.

She _had_ to make him see that this whole mess was _her_ fault.

"Gibbs, please. Please you must understand, Abby, she didn't want-"

She was cut off.

"For the _second_ time Ziva, I did _not_ ask you about Abby. I want an explanation from you _about_ you."

Cringing, the agent nodded in defeat but silently vowed to plead Abby's case when she got the chance once more.

"I…disobeyed you and I deceived you" she said simply, a woman of few words.

This was one of the many reasons Gibbs got along so well his youngest.

Usually, that is.

In this instance it made his palms twitch.

"Yes Ziva, I'm aware of that" the team leader shot back, valiantly trying to keep his cool.

"What I'm _not_ aware of is what the hell you were thinking. I want a _full_ explanation of what happened tonight and so help me if I don't get it soon; you're going to be extremely sorry."

Gulping in clear breach of her extensive training, the girl nodded despite herself.

Taking in a steadying breath, she began to painstakingly make her way through her explanation.

She felt the heat in her cheeks rise at how dismal it sounded when it was vocalised, especially when it fell upon the ears of a more and more thunderous looking Gibbs.

When she got to the part about approaching the subject and having to fend off shots from a concealed suspect, she felt her heart race manically at the dark look that had pooled in the usually piercingly blue eyes in front of her.

Eventually, her stammering and stuttering recounting came to a close, infused with many grammatical anomalies.

Her English proficiency always became strained when she was under intense pressure.

Right now, she could feel her boss' gaze penetrate her very soul, which qualified as intense pressure.

Even in her unwritten Mossad handbook of acceptable pressures.

Across the coffee table that separated them, Gibbs felt his heart constrict as he heard firsthand how close both his girls had come to death.

He of course had heard it all from the highly irate local officers, but to hear it tumble out of Ziva's mouth made the whole situation all the more, and all the more horrendously, clear.

When he eventually spoke, his voice didn't carry its usual authoritative ring. To Ziva's intense alarm and guilt, it oozed a deep sadness.

"You both could have been killed. Just like that. Did you even think how Tony and Tim could possibly cope with that? Hell, how I could cope with that?"

Paling, the girl felt guilt levels rocket up to levels she had never before experienced.

"No" she whispered.

"I didn't think it through like that…" she added miserably, her deep brown eyes brimming with regret.

"You didn't _think_ about anything other than your desire to help your friend Ziva. You didn't _think_ about your own safety, the safety of other and the impact of anything happening to either of you on everyone who cares about you. You behaved selfishly, recklessly and frankly stupidly. You got that?"

Ziva nodded immediately; there was not a single word that she could legitimately refute in her boss' angry speech.

"I understand you wanted to help David. I understand that. However, I told you in no uncertain terms that you were not to get involved in that god damn investigation. When he rang you to tell you about the blackmail drop off, you should have come to me _immediately._ I would have organised a joint operation with local PD. I was never against you helping your friend; I was against you putting yourself in _danger_ to help your friend. See the difference?"

Ziva gaped at him.

The enormity of her stupidity enveloped her like a dense fog.

Of course if she had gone to Gibbs, he would have found a team effort based way to help David.

Before she could even wrap her head around the fact that she hadn't seen what was now so obviously obvious, a question rang out from the other side of the coffee table that made her flinch.

"Why don't you trust me Ziva?"

Staring at him blankly for a moment, she pulled herself together.

"I do trust you" she blurted out, surprising herself with the sincerity in her own voice.

Trust, true and unadulterated trust in her world was a scarce commodity.

A very scarce commodity indeed.

However, as she surveyed the man in front of her she knew instinctively that she trusted him with a degree that almost frightened her.

Gibbs looked at her closely for a few moments, and then to her surprise smiled slightly.

"I believe you" he said, with an equally surprising bout of gentleness.

"But" he continued "I want to know why you didn't come to me for help, Ziva. I _need_ to know."

The young woman stared silently for a moment as she cast around her head as to _why_ she didn't ask the man who had proven more times than she could remember that he cared for her, for help.

Knowing that she could probably escape this interrogation without being strictly truthful, she decided against withholding.

She owed the man the truth at the very least.

Opening her mouth uncertainly, she was reassured when he gave a short, but encouraging nod.

It nearly hurt Gibbs' ears to hear the unsure voice that came from his youngest's mouth.

"It is a sign of weakness to need help. If you cannot get the job done yourself, what good are you?"

The team leader squeezed his eyes shut in despair for a moment and remained silent.

When he looked up at the clearly saddened Ziva, his heart ached a little more.

"You were taught that?"

The tousled mop of curls nodded in the affirmative.

Taking a deep breath, Gibbs broached the touchy subject.

"By your father?"

Again, the tousled mop of curls nodded in the affirmative…albeit slightly slower, before Ziva uncharacteristically dropped her gaze once more to the floor.

Gibbs sighed in sadness to himself and wondered how it was that two of the finest young people he knew, could have been so blighted by their fathers.

Well….their biological fathers that is.

Losing the stern expression for just a moment, he leaned forward in his seat.

"Look at me, Ziver"

The head snapped up and he saw the girl visibly relax at the use of her nickname.

Much like Abby always did when he called her Abb's.

"I know that you were taught to be independent and self sufficient. I know that that is how you were trained and how you survived. But, you're part of a team now. You're part of _my_ team. An extraordinarily important part of my team. When you put yourself in danger, by not coming to me or the boys for help, you endanger the team as a whole. Abby, is one hell of a scientist, but she is _not_ a field agent. You need help with something in the field, you come to _me._ You never feel ashamed to ask me for help Ziva, because that's what I'm _here_ for. Do you understand that?"

Ziva looked at him blankly for a moment, before stuttering out an answer that again assailed the gruff man's heart.

"I'm important?"

He felt his mouth fall open in response.

"You have to ask, Ziva?"

She flushed somewhat, completely unused to this degree of open candidness. Especially with _Gibbs._

"Well" she spluttered, her Israeli accent becoming even more pronounced.

"It's just…well" she tried again, whilst she shrugged awkwardly.

"You have… Abby is all…" she eventually concluded, cursing herself as she felt her face take on an even more crimson hue.

Gibbs stared at her for a moment, with an extremely un-Gibbs like expression on his face.

"What do you mean Ziva?"

Biting her lip in embarrassment, she again shrugged her shoulders.

"I understand why you are so upset with me for putting Abby in danger, you love her. Everyone knows that" she said slowly, feeling guilt envelop her once more at the thoughts of the quirky analyst being in harm's way.

Standing up silently, Gibbs made his way round the coffee table and perched on the side of it so that his knees and the alarmed looking Ziva's knees were practically touching.

Reaching out, he gently rapped her upside the head before placing a forefinger under his chin and carefully bringing her head up to meet his gaze. He felt himself redden as he struggled to verbalise how he felt about the young would be assassin.

He decided to opt for the simple truth.

Practice what you preach and all that, he told himself derisively.

"I love _you_ too Ziver, whether everyone knows it or not, even if _you_ know it or not. You got that?"

The shocked look on her face wounded him.

"W-what?" she stammered in complete surprise, feeling her word spin upside down.

She knew of course that Abby was Gibbs's favourite and that he loved her dearly, hell, the whole world knew that. She also knew that no matter how much he whacked him upside the head or yelled at him, that her boss thought of Tony as his own, albeit very annoying, boy. With Tim, it didn't take a shrink to know that Gibbs would lay down his own life it were to protect the tech genius. Gibbs loved Tim just as much as the other two, in his own way.

But with _her_ she never dreamed he would feel that he was anything other than her boss. Their cultural differences and her guarded demeanour had all but ensured that, in the young agents mind. Her head swooned as she thought of being fully included in the little de facto _Family of Gibbs_.

His voice broke through her reverie.

He placed a comforting hand on her knee.

"You mean _just_ as much to me as Abby does, or as Tony does, or as Tim does. You can keep up the guarded front until the ice caps melt Ziva, but it's not going to stop me caring about you. You four drive me absolutely up the wall, you're all taking years off my lifespan and you're all giving me worry lines I didn't think were possible. _All_ of you are. Not just Abby, not just Tony or not just Tim. E _very single one of you_ are the very bane of my existence, but I wouldn't change any of you for the world. Is that clear?"

The dark brown eyes shone with unshed tears, as the young woman pondered her answer.

She eventually nodded her head tentatively not trusting herself to speak or to work past the lump in her throat.

"I _mean_ it Ziver. I might be more openly affectionate with Abby, but that doesn't mean that I care any less about you or the boys. Besides, you'd break my arm off in four places if I tried" he added with a snort.

Smiling at the welcomed levity, Ziva nodded.

"I get it Gibbs, and… I, you" she said softly, knowing that he would hear and understand the speech that lay behind her few words, whilst simultaneously being shocked at her own, truthful, admission.

But she had known that she held a daughters love for the man in front of her for a long time now.

Every since…Ari.

Leaning back and removing his hand, Gibbs smiled slightly.

"Yeah well, _everyone_ loves me" he joked, knowing that Ziva was as uncomfortable and unused to vast exchanges of emotions as he was.

Predictably, it lightened the mood as she let out a peal of her ringing laughter.

She sobered up as a stern expression fell upon Gibbs' face once more.

Gibbs for his part was slightly wrong footed.

He had intended to unmercifully chew the girl out. Instead, they had somehow along the way managed to end up having a conversation that he never thought she would trust him to have. His heart swelled with pride at how far she'd come, but he felt his jaw clench when he realised how far she had to go.

"You will _never_ disobey me like this again Ziva, this is your final warning. What I say goes, at all times. Whether you like it or not. If you have a legitimate and mature objection to anything I decide, then you know you can come to me with it. What you do _not_ do is throw a temper tantrum and go behind my back and drag other people along with you to get your own way. Have I made myself clear?"

She cringed as she again felt the full force of her blinkered stupidity, and nodded her head in instant agreement.

"Yes Gibbs" she murmured softly.

Nodding tersely, he fixed her with a glare as he felt his anger come flooding back to him.

"What did I tell you would happen if you disobeyed me one more time and interfered in that god damned investigation?"

The already pale Mossad agent, paled even further before gulping and forcing herself to answer.

"That you'd take your belt to me" she answered truthfully, surprised by the firmness in her own voice.

Nodding wordlessly, Gibbs pondered for a moment.

He _had_ fully intended on wearing the stubborn girl out with his belt, but now…after he had finally gotten through to her how valued she was…it felt wrong, to hold her at arm's length like that in the immediacy of the following moments.

Making his decision, he indicated silently for her to stay where she was whilst he himself swept from the room.

She heart the distant sounds of him rummaging in a drawer in the kitchen and her stomach clenched as she wondered if in it lived a more heinous belt than the one he was currently wearing.

It always amazed her how she could never keep herself together during a punishment at her boss' hands.

She had been through countless punishments from her father that made the ones that Gibbs dished out seem like child's play, without making a sound or without shedding a tear.

With their team leader however, she knew his aim wasn't to hurt, but to teach.

And unlike her father, Gibbs punished them all because he cared about them.

Not because they had "disgraced him."

So lost was she in her thoughts that she didn't immediately register him coming back into the living room.

It took a further minute to register the rather fearsome looking hairbrush in his right hand.

It took the same length of time to register him settling himself down in the three seater sofa in the other end of the room, and looking at her expectantly.

Fearing she knew were this was going, she shook her head vehemently, sending dark curls flying in all directions.

"No, Gibbs, I-"

"Are going to do as you are told" he interrupted her calmly, but firmly.

"You want to act like a petulant brat Ziva, then that's exactly how I'm going to treat you. Come here."

She shot him a look of pure pleading despair.

Being bent over a table to have her backside strapped, she could handle.

Being bent over Gibbs' knee to be spanked like an unruly child, she could not.

When a silent glare was offered in response to her unspoken plea, she balked.

"Please not-"

She was swiftly interrupted, albeit non verbally.

Gibbs held up three fingers, and arched a silent eyebrow in her direction.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, he had to bite back a grin about how quickly she jumped up and crossed the room.

None of his four _ever_ let him get past two.

Leaning forwards, he took a careful grasp of her wrist and laid her gently across his knee.

She instinctively buried her face in the nearest cushion as he wrapped a firm around her slender waist.

He had only punished her like this a handful of times before, and she knew he chose to do so when she had strayed particularly far out of bounds, knowing how she detested being put over his knee.

"Why are you being punished right now Ziva?"

She groaned into her cushion but answered quickly.

"Because I disobeyed you, because I didn't come to you and because Abby and I were placed in danger as a result."

Nodding to himself, he took in a deep breath and raised his arm high.

The first swat cracked around the room and extracted an involuntary hiss from Ziva.

She forgot how much the man's hand _hurt._

Gibbs wasted no time into settling into a regular rhythm, bringing his hard and experienced hand down in rapid succession, but with sniper precision.

His palms were calloused from years of boat building, which was certainly adding to Ziva's discomfort.

He spanked her methodically, in logical progressions from the top to the bottom of her upturned backside. It was perhaps a testament to how much she loathed being upended over his knee like she was, that the faint strains of sniffling could be heard fairly quickly as his hand taught her the difference between initiative and insubordination.

He didn't lecture or scold, as he tipped her forward slightly and began to rain down searing swats on her sit spots, to the accompanying sounds of her whimpering.

He closed his eyes as the sounds of distress increased.

He wanted nothing more than to lift his youngest off his knee and into his arms.

Persevering, he laid down another all round flurry of stinging swats before gently tugging her pants down to her upper thighs.

She let out a small squawk of protest, but merely buried her head deeper into her cushion in response.

Groaning inwardly, he again settled into a steady tempo in lighting a fire across his disobedient agent's backside.

He could feel her start to cry, and as it always did, it caused him to wince.

Pulling himself together, he landed another handful of swats before quickly pulling her underwear down to meet her pants.

Her faint crying instantly became loud crying in response.

Reaching out, he grabbed the heavy oak hairbrush and clutched it tightly whilst wishing he could fire it out of the window.

"Do you understand why this is happening young lady?" he asked quietly, but just loud enough to be heard over the girl's crying.

It took a few moments for an answer, and he waited patiently.

When the strangled "yes Gibbs" rang out from the cushion, he nodded sadly and raised the brush high.

The first lick landed with a resolute force, drawing a loud yelp from the now sobbing Ziva.

Gibbs had to draw upon all his fear he had felt for his two girls to continue raining down swats on the now thoroughly crimson backside across his lap.

To her credit, Ziva squirmed minimally which was to a weary Jethro's relief as he began to bring her punishment to a close.

His youngest had begun to go limp across his knee and her racking sobs had descended into a quiet weeping.

All indications that the lesson he had been trying to teach her had been learnt.

With one final and solid swat landing across her sit spots, he threw the brush out his hand and instinctively began rubbing the small of her back.

He stayed stock still as she wept across his knee, her face still deep in the sofa cushion.

As he continued to rub circles across her back, he leant down towards her tousled mop of hair that was hiding her face, and began to murmur softly into her ear.

A long time passed, and still Gibbs stayed resolutely put, holding her close to him and encouraging her to cry herself out.

When the last tear fell, he very gently pulled her clothing back up to its rightful position.

She began to lift herself off of his knee, and he caught her mid ways, and carefully stood with her.

He chuckled slightly to himself when she threw herself into his arms and buried her head into his chest.

It was uncharacteristic for her to be so tactile, but it was also welcomed.

He wrapped his arms around her, and held her tightly to him.

She eventually broke away from him, and looked up to his face with red rimmed eyes, but he could see in them that the heavy burden of guilt she had been carrying had gone.

"You ok kiddo?" he murmured softly.

Nodding slowly, she smiled her beautiful smile and he felt his usual staggering relief.

The relief slipped away slightly when he realised he still had to dish out the last part of the girl's punishment.

"Do I even need to tell you that you're grounded and why?"

She predictably pouted and looked at him pleadingly.

"Gibbs, I-"

"Are grounded" he finished for her firmly.

"But, I-"

"One month. You know better than to lie to me, and you know the consequence of it. We can stop by your place tomorrow to pack a bag. Clear? Because, if it's not…" he trailed away and looked meaningfully over at the discarded brush.

All became clear for Ziva David in that instant.

"Clear, it's clear" she squeaked.

Chuckling, Gibbs reached out and ruffled her hair.

"Good. Now why don't you go on up and get changed for bed, send Abby down to me and let the boy's know I haven't murdered you. They get a bit funny about things like that" he teased gently.

Snorting, she nodded before a frown came over her face.

"What's up kiddo?"

She chewed her lip for a moment.

"I know you said you'd deal with Abby with Abby, but please…you must understand that I coerced her, I practically forced her…she didn't want to, she didn't want to go behind your back and she felt _terrible_ Gibbs."

Nodding slowly, the team leader knew she had a point.

Abby had a massive heart, and if someone represented themselves as being in undue plight, she would move heaven and earth to help.

And Ziva had certainly relied on that to gain her assistance.

But, Abby knew not to lie to him and she knew not to disobey him, whatever the reason, and she knew the consequences.

Reaching out and grasping the worried looking Ziva by the shoulders, he looked at her fondly.

"I promise I'll take everything you've said into consideration when I talk to Abby, ok?"

Visibly relaxing somewhat, she nodded.

A promise from Gibbs was a promise she could count on.

"Good. Now, go on upstairs, I'll be up in a bit with a bite to eat for the whole lot of you, ok?"

A much happier nod came his way in response.

She obediently, if albeit painfully, trotted towards the door, as Gibbs threw himself wearily in his armchair.

She loitered at the threshold, her hand lingering on the door.

"Gibbs?"

He looked up immediately.

"Yeah Ziver?"

She took a deep breath and looked at him seriously for what felt like an eternity to the man.

He felt his anxiety levels rocket as she surveyed him silently, had he been too hard on her?

"You are nothing like my father."

With that, she scampered out the door and up the stairs.

Leaving a distinctly teary eyed Jethro in her wake, cloaked in the relief that his girl had answered his unspoken fears.

…

TBC

…

A/N: I'm sorry that this is so long, I got carried away! It's my first time writing a full Ziva/Gibbs plot and it was super fun! Please let me know what you think/what you want to see!


	16. Regrets of Recidivism

Gibbs looked up wearily at the sounds of the creaking living room door being edged open.

Abby shuffled in slowly, clad already in her one of her favourite sets of pyjamas.

She clearly had no illusions of going home tonight, for which he was thankful.

Seeing the look of misery on his favourites face cut him deep.

"Hey Abb's" he greeted softly, gesturing to the chair opposite him in wordless instruction.

"Hey Gibbs" she murmured guiltily, moving to and depositing herself where indicated.

The two exchanged a long and silent glance, and like Ziva before her, Abby broke it first as her eyes found the floor.

"I'm in a whole word of trouble aren't I?" she asked, sneaking a furtive peek up at the man across from her.

He studied her for a moment, before sighing and nodding his head.

"You sure are, Abb's" he agreed sadly.

He opened his mouth to continue, but she bet to him to it.

Even Gibbs, being well versed in gabbling Abby-isms had to strain to pick out each word that was tumbling out of the wildly gesticulating scientist's mouth.

"I know you're really mad at me for going to that drop off and lying and being in a dangerous situation and everything, but I _have_ to apologise for snapping at you in my lab first. I am _so_ sorry Gibbs. I was feeling so bad already and then you came in and I didn't know what to do, I didn't know what to say. I mean what _do_ you do or what do you say in that situation, you know what I mean?"

He tried to interject what he knew was a snowballing rant, but he was unsuccessful.

"I'd already had like…five caf-pow's already, and I was just on this horrible rollercoaster of crappiness. Not like those cute ones that that are around at Christmas…you know those one's that have the candy cane wheels? Anyways, that's not the point; the _point_ is that I didn't know how to act around you when I was keeping something like this from you, because I never keep things from you. I mean you're Gibbs, right? Of course you know you're Gibbs already, but you know what I mean.

He tried one more time, but was unsurprised when his attempts proved futile.

"I feel _so_ icky about being so mean. I'm never mean. Well no, I am mean sometimes, but that's only when my neighbour doesn't bring his tortoise inside when it gets really cold. Not that tortoises would die or anything, it's just ill mannered you know? But no, it was really mean but I just needed you to not be in my lab because I was close to cracking and that would have been really bad for Ziva's friend. Well actually, in hindsight you would have probably helped Ziva's friend had you known, but we were pretty dumb and didn't realise that at the time."

He couldn't help but smile his crooked smile at the ranting off the quirky lab rat.

"It's ok Abb's, I know why you snapped and that you didn't mean it, ok?"

The look of relief that flooded the pale face was staggering.

"I'm sorry for hurting your feelings" she murmured for the last time, knowing that he didn't harbour any resentment for it and feeling a major weight being lifted from her shoulders.

Nodding, he looked at her and felt his jaw clench at how much danger she had allowed herself to be dragged into.

Deciding to get straight to the point, he levelled her with a glare that was so intense it was usually reserved just for Tony.

"Ziva has already done her best to defend your indefensible actions tonight Abby. She told me how it was all her idea, and how she forced you to go along with her. Well, let me tell you young lady that that does _not_ get you off the hook. You _know_ that you should have come to me. Ziva isn't as used to being a part of my team as you are, you know better. We clear?"

She nodded instantly, and began chewing her lip nervously.

"You two could have been shot dead tonight in the blink of an eye, and all because of your collective stupidity and disobedience. Do you see that?"

Another nod was given, and the lip chewing increased to the point he feared she would gnaw it off.

"I get that you want to help everyone Abby, you're a good person with a big heart. But, if you want to help people you need to be _around_ and _alive_ to do it. You are not a field agent, you are a scientist. If I _ever_ catch you out in the field again, I promise you, you'll wish you'd never been born. Understood?"

"Understood" she stuttered, knowing that Gibbs didn't make idle threats.

He nodded and looked at her sternly for a moment, before wincing despite himself.

"You two scared the hell out of me tonight. I've already had one phone call about one of my girls that left a hole that will never heal, please don't make me get another one."

She felt her eyes tear up in sorrow and guilt and she immediately understood what he was saying.

"I'll never do it again Gibbs, I swear" she said quietly, her voice shaking, but with a definable air of sincerity.

Silence lingered for a moment as the two gazed at each other, before he broke it.

"Oh, I intend to make sure of it" he said grimly, pulling out the hairbrush fresh from Ziva's backside from the side of his arm chair.

He stood and crossed the room to the sofa he had used earlier and sat down in the same spot.

He arched an eyebrow at the horrified looking girl, and stared at her sternly for a moment.

"Come here Abby" he instructed firmly, placing the hairbrush on the cushion beside him.

She shook her head vehemently; she _knew_ the sting of that brush.

She was positively sure she couldn't survive learning another lesson from it.

Feeling the weariness of the night cloak him once more, Gibbs merely held up three fingers.

He felt déjà vu as he again had to clamp down on his lip to hide the grin and she jumped up.

She made her way over to him slowly, pooling her eyes into pleading spheres of sadness.

It took all of his marine training to ignore them, as he for the second time that night, reached out and gently laid one of his girls across his knee.

He smiled softly as she, like Ziva, instinctively buried her face in the same pillow and wrapped her arms around it.

Pulling himself together, he wrapped a muscled arm around his scientist's trim waist and pulled her close to him.

"Why are you about to get a spanking Abby?"

He felt her groan and rolled his eyes at the similarities between the forensic genius and the Mossad assassin.

"Because I disobeyed you and went out in the field when I know I'm not supposed to, and because I…lied to you" she answered, her voice muffled by her cushioned confines, but being clear nonetheless.

"Is that acceptable behaviour from a valued member of my team?"

The muffled "no Gibbs, m'sorry" was all he needed to hear, and he reluctantly drew his arm back for the second time that night.

The first swat landed hard against the pyjama clad bottom and drew the predictable yelp from whom it was attached.

Gibbs again didn't hold back and he fell into his rhythm, bringing his hand down fast and hard on the upturned bottom across his knee.

It killed him that Abby was the most vocal of all of his four when it came to having her backside warmed; she lost no time in letting the first whimpers escape her, each one cutting into Gibbs with an almost winding force.

As with Ziva, he didn't see fit to scold or verbally reprimand the now squirming Abby, knowing that his hand would teach a lesson far more effectively than his mouth ever could.

Holding her tightly, he lifted his outside knee and landed a searing volley of well placed swats across his lab rats sit spots, it was these swats that were responsible from turning dry eyed whimpering into watery eyed crying.

Closing his eyes for a nanosecond in an effort to steel himself, he quickly tugged the girl's pyjama bottoms down to the tops of her tights and instantly continued the thorough spanking on her underwear.

To her credit, she didn't protest any more than letting out a particularly high pitched whimper of distress, which he had to work hard to ignore.

The living room was again full with the sound of hard hand meeting soft backside, interspersed with what was now loud sobbing and strangled promises of perfect future behaviour.

As Gibbs reddened the already well spanked sit spots once more, he again had to draw on all of his protective tendencies to reach up and gently tug the sobbing Abby's panties down to meet her pyjama ends.

She was too preoccupied with the fire raging across her scarlet backside to even formulate a protest in response.

Reluctantly, he reached out and for the second time of the night grasped the sturdy hairbrush in his right hand.

"Am I _ever_ going to have to punish you for disobedience like this again, young lady?" he asked, raising his voice just enough to be heard above her heartrending sobbing.

He knew it would take while before she could manage an answer, and he waited patiently, resisting the urge to scoop her up into his arms with great difficulty.

Eventually, through a hot haze of tears and a mouthful of cushion, the girl managed a "no s-sir."

He let the "sir" slide, even though he detested it, he knew Abby instinctively reverted to her Southern roots when in trouble.

Much like Tony, to his military academy roots.

"Am I _ever_ going to have to punish you for putting yourself in danger like this again?"

After a few moments, another whimpering "no sir" was caught by his keen ears.

"I better not Abby, because I _promise_ you that you won't sit for a month if I do."

With that, he wrapped his arm around her even tighter still, and raised the brush to lay down the first lick upon the crimson backside.

Predictably, she bucked against his tight grip in response and let out a strangled howl.

Feeling his own throat constrict at the sound of her distress, he resolved to bring her punishment to an end as quickly, but as thoroughly, as possible.

The brush rose and fell with extreme precision, each lick garnering a quieter and quieter response from the now weeping, Abby.

He felt her body begin to go limp across his knee and just as he had known with Ziva, he instinctively knew that they were nearly done.

Tilting her forward gently, he rained down a severe flurry of swats across her now very well chastised sit spots, knowing she would feel them tomorrow. With staggering relief, he laid down the last resounding lick and once again, threw the brush as far away from his as was possible.

He placed a warm hand on the small of her back and held her close as she wept across his knee.

He stayed stock still for the second time that night, and waited patiently for the last tear to fall.

When it did, he still made no attempt to move the contrite girl off of his knee.

It was only when she regained complete control of her breathing that he gently pulled her underwear and pyjamas back over her scorched her backside.

Gently setting her on her feet, he wasted no time in pulling her into his arms.

Like Ziva, she buried her face into his broad chest and sniffled into it.

He rubbed a hand gently through her hair, which in itself on a normal occasion would have earned him death by cyanide, but which she melted into contentedly in her current situation.

When she eventually pulled away after some considerable time, she peered up at him from red rimmed eyes.

"You really weren't joking when you said if you were to smart smacking me like DiNozzo, it wouldn't be on the head, huh?" she huffed dramatically.

Rolling his eyes, he landed a quick kiss on her forehead.

"No Abb's, I _really_ wasn't" he agreed amiably, looking at her fondly.

She made a non committal noise of discontent, but smiled up at him nonetheless.

"Slate clean?" she asked shyly.

Nodding immediately, he fixed her with a briefly serious look.

"Spotlessly" he reassured her, "we never have to speak about this again kiddo, you know that."

She shot him a look of relief based gratitude and nodded her understanding.

Gibbs for his part was summoning up the last of his resolve to hand down the last part of his second miscreants punishment.

"How did you like your few days of freedom, Abb's?"

Grimacing instantly and looking up with wide eyes, she visibly balked.

"Oh no, I-"

"Oh _yes"_ he interjected firmly.

"You're back in the jailhouse. One month. Only difference is you have a cell mate this time."

Pouting in outrage, she scowled and just about restrained herself from stomping her foot.

She settled for whining.

"I was grounded for a _whole_ month already Gibbs, c'mon!"

Putting a restraining hand on her shoulder, he looked down at her sternly.

"Abby. I have no problem with putting you back over my knee and explaining in great detail how unfavourably repeat offending with regard to _lying_ to me is looked upon, if you'd prefer?"

The scowling pout vanished instantly and she peered at him through beseeching eyes.

"No that's ok Gibbs, I get it" she assured him hastily.

"Oh good, I'm glad" he teased gently, ruffling her hair in the process.

"Yeah yeah, don't push it" she muttered dolefully.

"What was that kiddo?"

"Nothing, nothing" she replied quickly.

Rolling his eyes, he turned her gently towards the direction of the door by her shoulders.

"Ok, hop it. Up to bed with you, I'll be up with food for the four of you in a few ok?"

She opened her mouth, but was again cut off.

" _Yes_ I have a stock of those cakes that look like shell casings that you like" he assured her with rolling eyes.

Beaming, she obediently made her way to the door, letting out an involuntary hiss as she did so.

Thin as they were, her pyjama ends showed no deference to her scalded backside.

Lingering in the doorway and reminding him forcibly of his youngest miscreant, she turned to look at a silently observing Gibbs with a serious expression.

"Abb's?"

Her eyes narrowed, but he saw the visible sparkle of her usual mischief glistening in them.

"I'm still the favourite right?"

…..

TBC

…..


	17. Nature V's Nurture

Gibbs looked up from his paper and around his living room, sighing contentedly.

The two boys were immersed in a film that somehow managed to cater for both of their interests, which was a cinematic feat in itself, and which kept them quiet and well behaved, another feat.

The two girls were sprawled out across the floor in front of the fire, with Abby practicing her henna tattoo skills on an ever patient Ziva.

All in all, considering the locked down status of all four of his troublemakers, peace had well and truly descended over the Gibbs household.

Another hour or so passed lazily, and he started into his second paper and third coffee happily.

Just as he was getting to the sports section, he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Looking around at all four of his completely able bodied miscreants meaningfully, he sighed when none of them deigned to move a muscle.

Heaving himself out of his chair, and muttering about society's lack of respect for its elders, he meandered over to his front door.

Expecting it to be perhaps Ducky, he instantly felt his heart plummet when he answered the disturbance.

"Gibbs" came the sneering greeting with a supercilious nod, "I was told I could find my boy here."

A silence lingered as homeowner and visitor stared at each other wordlessly.

Anthony DiNozzo Senior was everything Leroy Jethro Gibbs detested.

He was smug. He was superior. He was condescending.

He was of all of these things, but the main thing that he was, and which Gibbs could never forgive, was the cause of so much pain to Tony.

 _He_ was the reason that Tony lacked basic esteem. _He_ was the reason Tony found it hard to trust. _H_ e was the reason Tony could never see his own, and tremendous worth.

Leroy Gibbs didn't hate easily, but as he surveyed the wealthy man before him, he felt raw hatred course in his veins and the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

It took a moment to realise that all four of his team members had appeared behind his back.

Shaking his head slightly to clear the fog of rage, he checked himself.

Despite what he thought of the piece of filth that was currently stood on his door step, he _was_ Tony's…well, he was partially genetically responsible for Tony's existence.

Biting down on his lip he nodded, and moved to open the door further to allow the pot bellied man gain entry into his home.

That was before he clocked the look of sheer and unadulterated fear and dismay that flitted across Tony's face in response.

Instantly changing tack, he stood to his fullest breadth, and continued to block his doorway, nudging the door back to its original half open position.

Turning to his silently observing agents, he spoke to the girls first.

"Ziva, Abby, go on upstairs for a while please."

He accompanied this instruction with a deep look, hoping that his girls wouldn't question his order.

They didn't.

Grabbing Abby by the hand, Ziva nodded and gently guided her up the stairs.

To everyone's relief, she didn't protest.

Turning now to Tim, he opened his mouth to issue another instruction but was cut off.

"I'm not going anywhere without Tony" the technical genius stated bluntly.

Feeling a bout of pride for his junior agent, Gibbs stared at him silently for a moment before shifting his gaze to Tony, feeling the burn of DiNozzo seniors condescending gaze on his back.

"Tony" he began, in a very gentle voice, much unlike his regular tones, as he thought hard and fast.

"Do you think you have time to speak to your father right now, or are you and Tim still working on that lead I asked you to run down."

Tony stared blankly for a moment before cottoning on.

Gibbs was giving him an out, without making him confront his father.

They were interjected, by an extremely irate DiNozzo senior, before Tony could speak.

"He's coming with me" he snarled angrily "I need his help with the _family_ business, he can go back to playing cops and robbers after we're done."

Gibbs bristled as he heard the loaded jibe from behind his back.

Keeping his cool, and resisting the urge to knock the man's teeth out, he spoke in level tones once more.

"You can go if you need to go Tony, it's your call."

Stammering for a moment, and staring at Gibbs who was deliberately blocking DiNozzo Senior's view of his son, Tony shook his head.

"We need time to work that lead boss, don't we Tim?"

Nodding his head instantly, and shooting a look of deepest loathing at the intruder, McGee nodded.

"Yeah, we do. We need loads of time boss."

Nodding in response, Gibbs turned back to the man he loathed.

"Sorry no can do, we're working here. You'll have to call back some other time. Maybe call ahead first" he said in what an outsider would consider to be polite tones, but to Tim and Tony's trained ears, radiated with a quiet anger.

Instantly snarling in rage, DiNozzo Senior levelled a completely unfazed Jethro with a manic glare.

"Boy" he barked passed Gibbs' shoulder, "get your sorry ass out here NOW."

Tony looked at Tim fearfully, who quickly threw an arm around his shoulder and indicated silently towards their boss.

He knew he would handle this.

Gibbs felt his marine training slip away from him, and his inner eighteen year old brawler come to the surface as he heard Tony being spoken to in such a degrading manner.

Placing his arm against the frame of the door, effectively barring _any_ kind of entry, he shot DiNozzo a look of deep, scathing hatred.

"You heard him already" he said quietly, "he's working. He doesn't want to go with you, he is staying here. You, on the other hand, _are_ leaving."

Curling his lip in response, but somehow feeling that his wasn't a man to be messed with, Tony's father chose to stand his ground.

As best as anyone _could_ stand their ground against Jethro Gibbs when he felt that his people were being threatened.

"He is coming with _me._ That is the end of the matter" he stated, in what he hoped was an aloof and lofty tone.

To all three listening sets of ears, it sounded exactly like what it really was.

The veiled threat of a bully.

Knowing that the unfit father in front of him wasn't going to give up without a fight, and not wanting Tony and Tim subjected to it, Gibbs once again turned his back on the snarling man and addressed his two silent boys.

"Why don't you two go on up and check how Ziva and Abby are doing with their lead?"

Tim nodded instantly, and increased the pressure around Tony's shoulders.

Tony didn't move.

Gibbs looked at him closely.

"Do you want to go, Tony?" he said so quietly that DiNozzo Senior couldn't hear, "you can, if you want to."

Balking instantly, his senior field agent shook his head and paled.

Wanting with all his might to draw the boy in for a hug, Gibbs nodded gently.

"Go on up with Tim then, I'll be up in a bit."

When the kid still didn't move, he tilted his head and studied him carefully.

"It'll be fine Tony, I'll deal with it, don't worry."

Nodding slowly, and shooting one last fearful look at the door, Tony allowed Tim to steer him towards the stair case.

Unfortunately, this movement caught the attention of a now positively livid, DiNozzo Senior.

He roared at the top of his lungs in the open doorway.

"Where the _hell_ do you think you're going? You waste of space, you useless, pointless waste of space. You'll never change, always the same good for nothing-"

He was immediately interrupted by a louder, and uncharacteristically frantic, voice.

"Tim! Bring Tony upstairs, _now_ , go."

A white faced McGee who was trembling with rage, gently pulled and pushed an ashen faced Tony up the stairs. Moments later, the sound of their bedroom door snapping shut wafted down the stairs.

It took only one millisecond thereafter for Gibbs' hand to find DiNozzo Senior's throat.

Stepping out into the frosty night, and pulling the door closed behind him, he held the man he would dearly love to kill against the wall, watching as he spluttered under his grasp.

Releasing him against his better judgement, he silently observed as the man's greedy little hands flew to his throat and massaged it dramatically.

Suddenly the malicious glint in his eyes grew brighter, and he sneered at Gibbs in the light of the front porch.

"What's the matter _Jethro?"_ he taunted softly.

"You still not over the death of your girl, so you're taking _my_ boy instead?"

A silence hung in the crisp air that even in the open surroundings, seemed stifling.

A raw, pure and frankly alarming rage began to spread throughout Gibbs as the words of the man in front of him penetrated his mind.

He felt his arm muscles twitch with the longing of smashing every single tooth in the spiteful man's head.

As he was just about to give in and succumb to the impulse, the image of Shannon popped into his mind.

She would never want this.

She would never want him to allow someone to use Kelly's memory in such a way.

Forcing himself to see past the rest mist that hampered his vision, he took in several gulps of frosty air.

Looking the man dead in the eye, he felt himself smile coldly.

" _Your_ boy?"

Staring back defiantly, the expensively dressed man nodded patronisingly.

" _Yes_ Agent Gibbs _._ His name ends with _DiNozzo_ , in case you hadn't noticed."

Nodding as if he was considering the merits of this argument, Gibbs continued to resist the urge to reach out and calmly strangle him.

He settled for leaning forwards into the man's personal space, an energy radiating from him that made the intruder wince.

"He is _not_ your boy. He is the boy you abused, he is the boy you belittled and he is the boy you had but never deserved. He is _not_ your boy, not in any way that matters."

In their dimly lit confines, he saw DiNozzo senior balk as his words hit home.

"I suppose _you're_ father of the year material then?" he spat out, but his earlier cockiness was fading fast. His aggressive demeanour was failing, and his face was taking on a fearful hue.

Standing back and crossing his arms, Gibbs slowly shook his head.

"Nope, I'm not. But I do something for Tony that's _very_ easy to do, but that _you_ never did."

Looking up at the intimidating marine, DiNozzo Senior attempted, but failed to glare.

"Oh yeah, what's that then? Show him how to shoot a gun?"

Shaking his head slowly and feeling a great pool of sadness at all that Tony had to endure, Gibbs folded his arms and leaned back against his wall.

"Nope, not that" he replied calmly, much more calmly than he felt.

"What then?" the man snapped furiously, wishing he'd never come to this house in the first place.

"Love him" Gibbs replied simply, letting his words linger in the air.

Looking at him incredulously, the business man let out a scathing laugh.

" _Love_ him?" he repeated mockingly, "he's your _employee_ for Christ's sake!"

Feeling a growl tickle the back of his throat, Gibbs shook his head disbelievingly.

"I don't have _employees"_ he responded slowly, "I have a team."

"A team that you _love?"_ the rapidly paling man sneered.

Not missing a beat, Gibbs nodded assuredly.

"Sure do" he answered easily.

"You're pathetic, so much for a _marine_ " the wealthy man scoffed, whilst feeling a pain deep down that had nothing to do with the heavy carb meal he'd had on the way over.

Shrugging nonchalantly, the agent shot the man an appraising stare.

"I'll take your observations on board" he answered sarcastically, growing weary of the man's intrusion upon his evening.

"Now, you need to get yourself the hell off of my property."

Standing up to his fullest height, which wasn't all that high, Anthony Senior attempted one last time to assert his authority.

"Not without the boy" he muttered mutinously.

"The _boy's_ name is _Tony"_ Gibbs shot back feeling his hackles rise once more, "and I think he's made it clear, that he doesn't want to see you."

"He is _my_ son" came the sharp response.

"Biologically speaking, yes" Gibbs agreed readily, biting his lip to keep from punching the man squarely in his weak jaw.

"He is also a fully grown man, and if he wants to see you, he can do so. He's decided however, that for tonight at any rate, he doesn't want to. Therefore, there is no one at this address that wishes to see you, so you need to leave. Now."

Knowing when a fight was lost, DiNozzo senior let out a feral snarl but leant down and snatched up his discarded briefcase.

"This isn't the last of this _Jethro"_ he sneered, as he began to turn away and descend the porch steps.

"Anthony?" Gibbs called in a surprisingly gentle voice, waiting for the man to turn back to him before continuing further.

When the unwelcome visitor had turned fully back towards him, he closed the distance between them in what appeared to be an amiable sending off.

Placing one hand on the man's shoulder, he leant in to his personal space as if to whisper into his ear.

Instead, he drew back his fist and landed a quick series of forceful blows into the man's stomach, whilst simultaneously twisting the skin on his neck, in an agonising grip.

DiNozzo Senior was too winded and startled to even yell in response, merely gasping for breath as Gibbs landed another searing punch for good measure.

When the man buckled over in pain, Gibbs seized his expensive jacked and forcibly righted him.

Bending down slightly, he put his lips deathly close to the trembling mans ear.

"You will never come back here again. You will never arrive to Tony's place unannounced again. You will give him the option of refusing your _visits._ You will never speak to him in your uppity, disrespectful manner again. You will never _lay_ so much as a _finger_ on him again. Do I make myself clear?"

An instant, if albeit shaking nodding of the head was offered in response.

"Good" Gibbs crooned softly into his ear, as he let fly with another punch into the man's abdomen.

"If I find out you've forgotten any of this little chat, I will rip you limb from limb. Do I make myself clear?"

Gasping and spluttering, DiNozzo Senior scarcely managed another jerking of his head.

Still within an inch of the man's ear, Gibbs leant in further.

"And let's just get _one_ more thing straight whilst you're here shall we? Would you like that?"

The obvious answer was yes, and as much as he would have liked to say no, the visitor simply didn't dare.

Not being able to speak due to the lack of oxygen in his stomach, he once again felt his head do the talking for him.

"Tony… is _my_ boy."

With that, Gibbs placed two hands on the shaking man's shoulder and forcibly pushed him off of his porch.

Without looking back, he calmly reached out and opened his front door, slipping back into the warmth of his house and shutting the door behind him.

Not skipping a beat, he made short work of the stairs before bursting anxiously into Tony and Tim's room.

He couldn't help but smile at the sight of Tony on his bed, with Ziva, Abby and Tim all huddled around him, each trying their best to make him feel safe.

He opened his mouth to ask them to make themselves scarce for a moment so he could talk to Tony, but was spared when Abby dragged the other two out immediately upon his arrival.

Sitting down on the bed beside his ashen looking agent, Gibbs sighed a sigh of deep sadness.

"How're you doing buddy?" he asked softly.

Looking up with anguished eyes that cut into the elder man's heart, Tony took a moment to answer.

"I'm sorry boss" he murmured guiltily, pulling anxiously at the bedspread to avoid making eye contact.

Feeling the distinct strains of confusion, Gibbs remained silent for a moment as he pondered.

Eventually coming up blank, he reached out and gently tipped Tony's chin upwards to level eye contact.

"What do you mean, you're sorry, Tony?" he asked quietly.

His agent merely looked at him in equal confusion.

"For what just happened" he eventually supplied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Feeling thoroughly bewildered now, Jethro stared nonplussed for a moment.

"I don't know what you mean Tony."

Sighing in frustration and obvious guilt, the kid looked at him with doleful eyes.

"I brought my mess to your house" he eventually offered, a dull flush creeping across his cheeks.

A horrible realisation was beginning to dawn on Gibbs, a realisation that made him wish he'd punched the recently departed DiNozzo senior a whole lot harder.

"You think it's your fault he turned up here?" he asked, knowing the answer.

A miserable nod of the tousled sandy brown head confirmed it.

"If I hadn't gotten in trouble, I wouldn't be here and he would have turned up at _my_ place" Tony said quietly, misery ringing in every syllable.

"You shouldn't have to deal with me _and_ my father" he added sadly, "I'm enough of a menace as it is."

Gibbs stood, and Tony winced, clearly expecting a headslap.

Instead, the elder man settled himself closer to him on the bed, and wrapped his arms around him, drawing him into his torso.

He wasn't surprised when he heard the kid began to sniffle slightly, he held him slightly tighter in response, and rested his hand on his mop of hair when the boy buried his face into his chest.

"You are _not_ a menace. You are _not_ worthless, useless, pointless or anything that that man has ever told you that you are. You are a kind, funny, brave and strong young man, a young man that I'm proud to have on my team…and in my family. You got that Tony?"

When he got no answer, other than a sharp increase in sniffling, he issued a very gentle headslap.

"I said, you got that Tony?"

The "yes boss" was muffled and choked, but the elder man could hear the sincerity in it and held the kid even tighter to him.

When he eventually let go, Tony was as he suspected, slightly watery eyed, which he tactfully pretended not to notice.

"You hit him, didn't you?" the kid suddenly asked, looking up at Gibbs with a wide eyed expression.

Grimacing slightly, and suddenly worried how Tony would react to him physically assaulting his father, Gibbs nodded slowly and studied the kid's face closely.

It broke out into a grin.

"You're the best, boss."

Snorting and rolling his eyes slightly, Gibbs reached out and ruffled Tony's hair affectionately.

"That's not what you said when I stuck you lot on cold cases last week" he teased lightly, and laughed when Tony grinned ruefully at being caught out on his "boss is so unfair" rant.

Looking at the kid fondly, Gibbs instinctively knew he would be alright after the impromptu visit that had interrupted their evening.

He would make sure of it.

"Want to come downstairs and finish your film with Tim and the girls now?" he asked gently.

Nodding instantly, Tony clambered off the bed with Gibbs, who threw a gentle arm around him.

"Tony?"

"Yeah boss?"

"I ever catch you blaming yourself for anything that man says or does, and I will wear you out, got that?"

Looking up at the father he never thought he would have, Tony grinned and nodded.

"Got it boss."

Laughing and joking, both men made their way back downstairs where the senior field agent instantly deposited himself in the middle of the other three, whilst Gibbs set off to make hot chocolate for the four of them.

As he made his way into the kitchen, he doubled back quietly and glanced out of the glass panels of the front door.

The front porch was completely empty.

He quickly turned the two locks and fastened the chain latch anyway.

Just in case.

…

TBC

…

A/N: I just wanted to say a massive thank you for all the kind and thoughtful reviews so far, especially those who review frequently! They really encourage me to keep going! Anyways, hoped you all enjoyed this chapter, it was a lot of fun to write!


	18. Past Penance

Gibbs sighed a sigh of mixed emotion as he closed his front door on an unseasonably cold Sunday night.

He'd long since released his two boys from their sentence, and tonight he'd paroled his two girls.

As he settled himself down in his usual living room perch, he smiled at the silence and peace that now surrounded him.

He also frowned as he was self aware enough to realise he was going to miss Tim and Tony's incessant chattering, and Abby and Ziva's constant laughing now that all four had served their respective sentences.

Picking up the remote he rolled his eyes as the TV instantly went to the movie station haunted by DiNozzo.

Flicking over to the news station, he settled himself comfortably and was just contemplating ducking out for a cold six pack when his cell began to ring.

Grinding his teeth at the interruption on his weekend off from on call duty, he grumpily fished the offending device out of his jeans pocket.

Spying the number flashing on the display panel, he sat bolt upright.

It had been years…but he knew that number as sure as he knew his own name and who it belonged to.

Blinking rapidly to completely sure his bourbon a day habit wasn't obscuring his vision; he shook his head when it became clear he was as sharp sighted as ever.

As he eventually answered, upon hearing the first word spoken by the caller, he uncharacteristically paled.

As he continued to listen to the voice on the other end, he again felt himself pallor.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he strove to get a handle on himself.

He was _Leroy Jethro Gibbs_ for Christ's sakes.

Murmuring into the receiver, in tones that would alarm those closest to him, he eventually brought the call to a close.

Sinking back as far as possible into his couch, he buried his face into his hands.

He never thought this would come back to haunt him.

It had been clean.

It had been efficient.

Apparently, judging by the frantic nature of the caller, it had been neither clean nor efficient enough.

A strangled groan escaped him as he assessed his very limited options.

He had a team.

He trusted that team with his life.

But he knew, he knew as he pounded his forehead with his palms, that he couldn't bring them into this.

He wouldn't bring them into this.

Steeling his resolve, he drew his knees up to his chest, and rested his head on them.

He had no choice but to do what he knew had to be done.

What should have been done, many years ago.

And he had to do it solo.

The team, Ducky… anyone. They could never know.

Would never know…

The possibility of his not making back to the people he cared about the most flashed in front of his eyes, and he cringed as he felt the sharp pricks of unshed tears push against the barrier of his eyelids.

Visualising the look on his boys' and his girls' faces if they got that call, elicited another gasping groan from the seasoned agent, but he held onto his resolve.

He unfurled his stance, and shot down to the basement to vigorously attack his boat and get lost in some copious consumption of scotch.

He had to put on a show tomorrow, otherwise the team would pick up on his inner and frantic fear.

Reaching out and grabbing the sanding belt, he felt himself swoon slightly.

He hadn't experienced fear like this in many years.

Throwing nails and screws haphazardly out of a jar, and replacing them with scotch he gulped it back in one swig.

He grimaced as he heard the voice of the deceased Director Shepherd in his inner mind.

" _Black ops aren't the same thing when you have a family, Jethro."_

He had sneered at her then, in the very early days with his team, who were then just agents to him.

This time as he replayed her words, in her voice, he couldn't stop the single tear that trailed slowly down his face.

She had been… oh so very right.

…..

TBC

…..

A/N: I'd like your thoughts guys! I don't know whether to wrap this story up in about one or two more chapters, and maybe start a new one someday, or just leave this one as a continual WIP. My concern is that this one would become too long etc. What do you all think? I also know that this update is short, and a bit cryptic, but all shall become clear!

Hope you guys had a great Christmas!


	19. Follow the Leader

Tim winced as the echoes of Tony's fourth chewing out of the day filled the bull pen.

He quickly glued his eyes to his own computer screen when his boss finished up with a now distinctly pouting DiNozzo, and stormed back to his own desk.

Tim furtively exchanged a glance with the sulking Tony, and knew he was thinking the same thing.

There was still something very…off, with Gibbs.

Whilst it was far from unusual to be thoroughly hauled over the coals by the man, it was never for such trivial matters as he had just reamed Tony for.

He was still on extreme edge about something, and it was making him absolute hell to work with.

They had both tried in their own way, since Monday when the angry behaviour of their boss first came to light, to approach him delicately.

All they had earned for their troubles was a searing head slap each, and a stack of cold cases apiece.

Ziva had also given it a go, and also earned a similar penance.

Abby's attempts had been met with a warning glare and removal of her music for a day.

By Wednesday, all four had learned to leave well enough alone.

Which for Abby was a first time achievement.

Tim continued to furtively monitor Gibbs over the top of his monitor, and was again alarmed by how un-Gibbs like the man seemed.

He was…paler than usual. Flew off the handle at the slightest provocation, gave an almost involuntary twitch every time his cell rang and had even started locking his front door.

He squirmed as he thought of how ridiculous he, Ziva and Tony must have looked last night as they weighted the relative merits of lock picking their boss's door. It took only a few moments of standing on his porch, before they hightailed it from his property having considered the repercussions.

Sighing anxiously, the junior agent returned to his pile of files knowing that unless the older man wanted to explain, there would never be an explanation.

A weighty silence enveloped the bullpen, with the only sounds being heard were fingers against keys.

The day continued to progress with the week's now habitual tension and silence as Ziva, Tony and Tim tried their best not to take their boss's snarling rebukes personally.

Gibbs for his part was rapidly becoming exhausted.

He was also feeling the unusual panging of guilt.

He knew he was being completely unfair with his team.

But he also knew that it was for the best.

Soon, they would resent him.

If they resented him, they wouldn't dig into what he could sense, they sensed, was wrong with him.

Thus keeping them out of harm's way, as best he could.

He groaned inwardly as he glanced up and saw the telltale signs of sulking on Tony's face.

He'd been harsh with the kid, and he could practically feel the disapproval emanating from Tim in response.

He sighed and turned back to his own pile of work, cursing his maddening inability to completely mask the turmoil he was going through.

He snuck furtive glances at his cell, willing it to ring whilst at the same time praying to God it would never ring again.

An hour or so later into the same heavy atmosphere, and Gibbs found himself vigorously reaming both Tim and Ziva for some triviality that would usually only warrant a warning glare.

He spotted the heated and meaningful looks the trio exchanged over their monitors when he'd finished, and noted with a stab of sadness that his plan was working.

They were already starting to resent him.

Hours passed, and thankfully the day came to a close.

He barked out orders for the three to wrap up for the night, and pretended not to care when none of them bade him their customary goodnight.

He also pretended not to care when the three swept from the bullpen without glancing at him, and huddled together in the elevator without a backwards glance.

When the doors closed, he immediately abandoned pretending not to care and dropped his head wearily into his hands.

Whilst he was always firm with his team, he was never unfair or spurious.

He didn't like to begin to think what was going through their minds; he particularly cringed when he thought of Tony.

The last thing that kid needed was to think that he didn't care about him.

He knew that Tony's insecurities made these types of thoughts a very real possibility and he couldn't help but pound his fists against his forehead.

Feeling the bubbling pool of guilt already present in his gut froth a little as he replayed the transient looks from sulking to angry that each of his team had displayed that day as he'd laid into them, he stood up wearily.

Grabbing his jacket and gear, he made his way slowly out of the Navy Yard.

He didn't rush.

He was in no particular hurry to get home.

 _Home._

He scoffed to himself coldly as he thought the very word.

His home, within a few short days, had seamlessly transitioned from a place of security to a place of scrutiny.

He balked at the very thoughts of spending another night in his own home, as he slid behind the driving wheel.

He comforted himself in the knowledge that at least he had done as satisfactory as possible a job of ensuring his peoples safety.

He flushed as he felt the sadness pool inside him once more at the thoughts of the methods he'd used to ensure it.

He'd pushed people away hundreds of times.

It had never affected him like this before.

Shaking his head to clear the haze that seemed to constantly cloud his mind, he started the car with the same degree of reactance of a man who was walking to the gallows.

Unbeknownst to him, a couple of hundred feet away, an intervention meeting was taking place.

Four heads, two sandy brown and two dark toned, were bent over a solitary shared pizza.

Abby took the lead, as she always did when it came to her Gibbs.

Looking plaintively at Tony, she tilted her head to once side.

"Fix him."

Sighing, the senior field agent threw an arm over the saddened lab rat's shoulders.

"We need to find out what's going on first Abb's. There is definitely something serious happening, something he doesn't want us to know about. Without knowing what it is, we're screwed."

Ziva looked up at this, chewing her lip thoughtfully.

"Well, if we do not find out what it is soon, it will be irrelevant."

A brief silence ensued, as three sets of eyes swivelled towards her.

It was broken by an anguished squeak.

"Why?" spluttered Abby. "Why will it be irrelevant?"

Looking at her solemnly for a moment, Ziva pondered.

"Because Abby, I will be instinctively forced to kill him myself" she responded calmly.

Tony and Tim let out an involuntary snort of laughter as this, which Abby soon joined in with.

"He _is_ being pretty…pretty…"

"Pretty much a jerk" Tim supplied for her grimly, but with a smile still on his face.

Nodding his agreement, Tony reached out and squeezed Tim's shoulder quickly.

The technical analyst seemed surprised by the uncharacteristic gentleness, but smiled softly in response.

Looking around the three huddled around him; Tony assumed his senior field agent voice.

"Look, I know Gibbs is being…well, I know it's been tough the last few days. But that's just his way of keeping us out of whatever is going on, he _doesn't_ mean it."

He opened his mouth once more to continue his consoling speech, but was interjected.

"He took away my music, Tony! My _music._ "

Smiling slightly at the indignation in her voice, he nodded soothingly.

"I know Abb's. But I also know, in his own messed up way, he thinks he's doing what he needs to do to keep up out of whatever mess he's got himself in."

Three eyes widened as they stared at him.

"How can you possibly _know_ that?" Tim spluttered, his curiosity affecting his usually perfect elocution.

Tony shrugged, not exactly knowing how he knew, but just knowing _that_ he knew.

"I just know" he responded calmly.

"Now, are we all agreed we're going to do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this and help the bossman?"

Three heads nodded instantly, no one needed a second to think about it.

"Good. Four conditions though."

All three stared at him silently, waiting for him to continue.

Clearing his throat slightly, Tony looked around them all with as serious an expression as his facial muscles could master.

"No one here is to put themselves in unnecessary danger. No one here is to go all maverick and do _anything_ on their own. No one here, is to get hurt. My lead is not up for debate, are we clear?"

It was a sheer testament to how much each individual wanted to help Gibbs, that no one questioned Tony's short speech.

Three heads nodded as one, and Tony breathed slightly easier.

"What's the first command for Team Save Gibbs?" Abby asked with an alarming intensity, even for her.

Paling somewhat as he had anticipated this question, knowing the answer, Tony took a final moment to ponder.

"First…"

He took a deep breath.

"First we call Mike Franks."

Judging by the intake of breath around the impromptu dinner table, he had been right to be anticipative.

Calling their boss' boss, would _not_ go down well.

Tony gulped as he realised that if whatever was troubling Gibbs didn't kill him, _Gibbs_ would kill _him._

Stiffening his resolve by remembering everything the man had done for him, he held out his phone to Abby.

"Encrypt the call Abb's. The Director can never know a call to Mike Franks came from inside this building after the last fiasco."

The phone was instantly snatched from his hand, and soon the only sounds that could be heard in the lab were the soft patter of hands on keys.

Some miles away and some half an hour later, Gibbs reluctantly put his key in his front door.

Since he had started locking it, he had found it a very strange experience to have to fish keys out his pocket every time he wanted to enter his own god damned house.

Striding into his hall, he threw his jacket and bag into the corner.

As he collapsed onto his couch, he swiped his face with tired hands and let out a wavering sigh.

The voice that came from the corner was not unexpected, but it still made his blood run cold.

It made it stagnate in his veins, and send an irrepressible shiver down his spine.

"Long day, Jethro?"

Forcing himself with the utmost will power to remain calm, he looked into the corner of his living room to barely see a figure, shrouded in the shadows of the room.

It was a distorted view, the man in the corner could have been anyone.

But Gibbs knew, as he knew that this might be the last person he'd ever see, exactly who it was.

Throwing an arm behind his head, and leaning back into his couch, looking every bit the nonchalant special agent, he willed his heart to slow down before he answered.

"Not too long Logan, not too long. Can I get you a drink?"

A soft chuckle crept out from the darkened corner.

"A drink, Jethro? No, no. I have no interest in your hospitality."

Feeling an anger surge through him, Gibbs gritted his teeth.

"Then what _do_ you have an interest in, Logan? Forgive me, but your calls have hardly been, _illuminating."_

Another hard laugh echoed around the living room, a callousness embedded in it that made the hairs on the back of Gibbs' neck stand.

"My interest, Jethro? My interest is in something you have that I want, that I want very dearly."

Gibbs felt completely nonplussed at that.

He didn't have money. He didn't have Navy or intelligence secrets worthy of this song and dance.

"What's that then?" he eventually shot back, still trying to control his erratic heartbeat.

A suffocating silence penetrated the room, as the shrouded figure leaned forward in his chair, just enough so that the sliver of streetlight illuminating the room fell upon his face.

Gibbs grimaced as he saw the familiar scar and he felt his stomach turn as he saw the familiar lopsided and manic grin on the man's face.

"Ziva David" Logan crooned, glowing in the misery this would cause the man in front of him.

"You have Ziva David, and I'm here Jethro, to take her from you."

….

TBC

…

A/N: I'd just like to say thanks for all the input on whether to leave this a WIP or start a new story. I've decided to leave it as a WIP, and maybe start a new story as well!

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, I really appreciate it! Anyways, hope you enjoyed!

….

TBC

….


	20. Problem Probie?

The last time Gibbs had such a palpable feeling of dread surge throughout his body, was when he was informed about Shannon and Kelly.

As he looked speechlessly into the face of his tormentor, he felt that long lost feeling transform from shock and fear, to rage.

He, with great difficulty, resisted the urge to calmly reach for his firearm and shoot the man in the head.

Cocking his head slightly to the left, in an inane attempt to see through the red mist that clouded his vision, he struggled to breathe for a moment.

"You touch a single hair on her head and I will rip your sad excuse of a heart straight from your chest."

As if expecting this response, Logan let out another spine tingling chuckle.

"Oh Jethro, you really haven't changed have you? Not even after all these years… still _fiercely_ protective of your cubs."

Ignoring the jibe, Gibbs fought to remain calm.

As bad as he thought his situation was twenty minutes ago, it had suddenly tail spinned into something worse.

Much worse.

Breathing in deeply, he strove to keep a handle on himself.

"You can have me. Not her. That's the deal, Logan."

A cruel smile twisted the already demonic features on the intruders face as he leant forwards once more.

"Not her, hmm? What about, let's see… Anthony then? Timothy? Abigail?"

He paused for just a moment to enjoy the pain and fear that shot across Gibbs' face before continuing.

It was delicious to him.

"Are any of those three less… _valuable_ to you, Jethro?"

Three shades whiter than he had been in years, Gibbs was quite sure his heart was going to give out at any moment such was the speed of its beat.

"I'll kill you" he ground out in a croaking whisper, completely incapable of normalised speech.

Pretending as though he hadn't heard this, Logan leant back in the chair and smiled at the ceiling.

"No no, I have no interest in those three. They are so very _ordinary._ Ziva on the other hand…Ziva is everything we could ever have dreamed of. And we will have her Jethro, whether it is dead or alive, is up to you."

As Gibbs opened his mouth, he held up a hand.

"Of course we have no _desire_ to kill her, she is much too precious. However, we have no such qualms about your other three puppies. You have until eleven tonight, to deliver her to an address that will be relayed to you in a moment. I don't care how you get her there, just get her there. We will do the rest."

He again paused for a moment to drink in the anguish that was bursting out from the man opposite him.

"If you are late Jethro, or you do not show with the girl…well" he paused to let out a soft and dangerous laugh "let's just say it would be very _bad_ for your other little _Gibblet's_. Do you understand?"

A stark silence hung in the air, pressing down upon the two occupants of the room.

What came out of Gibbs' mouth next surprised even him, it was something he had never done before in his life.

Ever.

He pleaded.

"Please" he groaned, gasping for breath as he did so.

"Please, just use me. Leave them out of it, they're innocent. Please, I'm begging you..."

Logan let out a feral burst of cold laugher in response.

Leaning forward he openly basked in the pool of Gibbs' misery as he continued to laugh.

"Please? Did the great Leroy Jethro Gibbs, just say _please?"_ he taunted, revelling in the moment.

Not caring if the whole world knew he had just said please, the marine nodded instantly.

"I will do whatever the hell you want Logan, whatever you want. Just don't involve them, for god's sake man they're barely out of diapers!"

Standing, and being unsurprised when Gibbs mirrored his movements, Logan shook his head callously.

"You _will_ do what I want Jethro" he agreed in what could be considered amiable enough tones, but reeked of gloating pleasure.

"What I _want_ is Ziva David, and you _will_ bring her to me, or the rest of your brood will suffer the consequences. Better to lose one then four, don't you agree?"

With that, he turned to the door leaving a pale faced and clammy Gibbs in his wake.

He paused for a final moment, just long enough to throw another bullet over his shoulder.

"Abigail has a funny sleeping set up, doesn't she Jethro? I mean, a coffin of all things…"

With that, he swept from the house with a final laugh and Gibbs collapsed in a heap on his sofa, uncaring and unashamed of the shaking that racked his body.

With the greatest amount of strength he had ever used, he forced himself to think like an agent.

Glancing at the clock he saw that it was now eight pm.

Leaving three hours to come up with some kind of a plan, a plan that kept all four of his people safe.

Running his hands through his hair he thought with all his might.

Slowly a plan began to formulate, and when his phone beeped with the promised location, he felt a tiny fluttering of relief when he recognised the address.

An abandoned warehouse off the beat and track.

Secluded and secure.

It would suit their needs, but it would also suit his.

He hunched up on the sofa as he ran through his still embryonic plan in his inner mind.

It might work, it could work…

It would more than probably result in his serious injury if not death, but it would operate to keep his four of the firing range.

He silently rued the day he had ever been assigned to the black op that had been the catalyst for the chaos that was unfolding around him.

His only comfort was that Mike had no idea what was going on, and that they seemed to have no interest in going after him.

It had been he and Franks first undercover assignment together…

The infiltration of one of the most fearsome Mexican drug cartels was not one that was undertaken lightly, and they had both understood the risks.

That was of course, after Shannon and Kelly had been taken from him.

He would never had considered it had they still been alive.

He…would have never considered it had he been with his team longer.

They had argued, he and Franks.

Gibbs had wanted to take down the head of the cartel…to physically take him down, once and for all.

Mike had pulled rank, and had headslapped him into submission.

They were to infiltrate and observe, not to kill or injure.

That had been hard for Gibbs, a man of action, to watch but not to react.

He let out a groan as he remembered how badly that mission had blown up in their faces, how they had been exposed.

How they had been lucky to escape with their lives…

He had known this would come back to haunt him, had told Mike his fears.

Mike had shrugged them off, told him to quit his worrying and shut his mouth.

He smiled grimly.

Sometimes being the one who is always right, wasn't such a great deal.

He knew as he stood and began to collect an arsenal of weapons, that he couldn't bring NCIS into it.

The cartel had a reach that was far beyond anything a state agency could rival.

If they wanted him dead, dead he would be.

He could accept that.

He could not accept however, a price on any of his people's heads.

As he placed his back up weapon in his ankle holster, he for the millionth time wondered how an ex American agent could turn so…well, evil.

Snorting despite himself, he realised that Logan was probably one of the very few on this earth to be simply _born_ evil.

He'd always had a cruel streak, even back in their rookie days.

He supposed exposing him and Franks to the cartel had been a much a source of amusement to Logan as it had been a business decision.

He shook his head as the cruelties of the world threatened to engulf him, and forced himself to concentrate on strapping his back up knife to his right inner thigh.

Glancing at the clock, he saw it was now nine thirty pm.

Closing his eyes briefly to steel himself, he strode to his front door.

He couldn't help but cast an eye around his home as he loitered on its threshold, the home that had borne so many happy memories… before he shut the door quietly behind him.

In that moment, he was quite sure that he would never see it again.

As he got behind the wheel of his car, he ran through the plan once more.

It was a simple one, even if it had suicidal overtones.

He knew that the warehouse he was being summoned to was more than just an abduction point.

The cartel wouldn't miss the opportunity to create a new pipeline whilst in DC.

He was willing to risk his life on the certainty that the warehouse was storing millions worth of various drugs.

His hope, his only hope, was to create enough chaos and gunfire that the patrolling local PD car that he had carefully coincided his arrival with, would hear and call for back up.

This simple and admittedly basic hope, was all he had.

The local PD could take the few cartel members either down or in, and the haul that would be found would be enough to burn DC for the Mexican mob forever.

They were cautious people. Psychopathic people, but cautious people.

The risk of forcibly abducting a federal agent from an area that was hot on their trail would be too much, they would scarper.

He had no doubt they might return in years to come in their search for Ziva, but he was rather more sure that business thinking would prevail and their operation would be deemed a write off.

It was his only chance to protect her.

And his only chance to protect his other three.

Involving any law enforcement agency in advance, would nearly ensure a tip off and the whole thing would go to hell.

If the cartel were in town, they had already bought leaks.

He couldn't take that risk.

Not with his people.

He dimmed his headlights as he pulled into the turn off that led to the warehouse, thoroughly earlier than instructed and thoroughly empty handed.

He killed the engine about fifty meters out, and allowed the car to coast on its previous velocity to park under the cover of nearby shrubbery.

Taking a huge intake of air, he exited the car quietly and glanced at his watch.

It was about five minutes until the patrol car were due to make their daily sweep of the abandoned area.

He took in the imposing structure of the cartel seized warehouse, and despite himself had to admire their attention to detail.

Every crack that could expel light had been covered or boarded up.

Whatever vehicles they were using had been well hidden and were completely out of sight.

It was only his natural instinct and years of investigative experience that told him that the seemingly empty warehouse, was a hive of activity.

No patrolling police car would pick up on the signs, a fact which the cartel both clearly knew and were counting upon.

A glance at his watch told him that two minutes remained before the squad car was due to meander into the area.

He crept closer and closer to the warehouse, until he was within about fifteen feet.

One minute remaining.

Taking in an inordinate amount of air, he squared his shoulders and drew his weapon.

Placing a quiet hand on the side entrance door handle to the eerie property, he closed his eyes and summoned up his marine core courage.

This would likely be the last door he would ever open, but he knew he could do it.

Just as he was about to inch the entrance open, he was stopped in his tracks.

By the cool barrel of a gun being placed directly behind his left ear lobe.

He felt his stomach plummet and his heart quicken in response.

As he was assessing his options, he forced himself to remain calm.

He needn't have bothered.

When the voice behind him spoke, a certain calmness that he thought he would never feel again draped itself over him.

This was despite the fact that the words the voice spoke were… far from comforting.

"If those guys in there don't kill ya Probie, don't worry about it. I'm sure as hell willing to kill ya myself right about now" it growled, emanating a familiar stench of stale tobacco and digested beer as it did so.

Reeling around and feeling the first strains of shock, Gibbs found himself nose to nose with his mentor.

The man he had trusted with his life more times than he could remember.

"How-"

He was cut off.

"Don't got time for the hows and the whys right now Probie, but don't you worry that pretty head of yours. If we somehow get out of this one alive, you and I…we're gonna have the longest chat you just about ever had in your god damned life."

…..

TBC

….


	21. Sometimes, You're Wrong

Before he could open his mouth to even try and formulate a response to this, all the while being conscious that the patrol car would be appearing soon, Gibbs was once again cut off.

This time however, what he saw did _not_ calm him.

Tony, Tim and Ziva suddenly melted out of the shadows to flank each side of Franks, each one wearing their own look of disapproval.

The fact that any of them would dare to outwardly show disapproval, showed how very disapproving they _were._

Turning to Mike and being annoyed to find his heartbeat completely out of his control, he squared his shoulders and fought to control his anger.

He failed. His hackles were well and truly raised, and he could have gladly landed a blow straight into Mike's moronic jaw.

"You brought them with you? What the _hell_ is the matter with you, you _stupid_ son of-"

The headslap seemed to sound much louder than usual in the brisk evening, and it was a testament to the trio's outrage at their boss' actions that instead of exchanging shocked and sympathetic looks, they looked on in silent approval.

"You really wanna finish that sentence, Probie?" Mike growled angrily.

Balking slightly at the sting in his head and the tone his old boss was using as well as being embarrassed by being yelled at in front of his three, Gibbs shot one last glare but wisely shut his mouth.

"Oh, good" Franks drawled sarcastically.

"Now, new plan. I don't know what plan you had, but seeing as you're here on your all on your lonesome it was obviously all kinds of stupid. By my reckoning, there'll be about five to eight men inside, and a whole lotta' product. Ziva will-"

" _Ziva_ is what they _want,_ god damnit Mike!" Gibbs interrupted, finding it difficult to keep his voice low when all he wanted to do was bellow and roar at the man who had brought the silently on looking three into this whole mess.

Resisting the urge to headslap the angry man in front of him all the way back to Mexico, Mike merely glared at him silently for a moment.

" _Yes_ Probie, we _know_ that, now-"

"How can you possibly know that?" Gibbs interjected angrily.

"You interrupt me _one_ more time Jethro, and you're benched on this and me and the rugrats are going to take this solo, you got that?"

This time there was a definite smirk on all three of his people's faces.

Grinding his teeth in anger, he stayed mutinously silent to indicate that he did indeed get it.

"Now as I was saying, Ziva is going to take the back. DiNozzo and McGee are going to take the sides, and you and I are going to take the front. There are three armed units on the way, and before you even think about opening your mouth Probie, the order came from the director himself, so no leaks."

Gaping somewhat at this turn of events, Gibbs spluttered in response.

"The director?"

Smiling grimly, Mike nodded.

"Yeah Jethro, the _director._ Who by the way wants to have a little talk with you, but he's very kindly agreed to wait until _I'm_ through with you."

Rolling his eyes with the disdain that only he could master, Gibbs nodded and looked away.

"Ok, so are we going to continue this tea party or are we actually going to do something here tonight?" he shot at Franks.

"McGee check on the backup" Mike barked in response.

Gibbs glowered as McGee did as he was instructed, he knew Mike would know that him issuing orders to his team would grate on his nerves.

But he held his tongue.

Things were clearly dire enough.

The only sounds that could be heard in the winter air were McGee's murmurings as Gibbs, Franks and Tony and Ziva stared at him intently.

Hanging up the phone, Tim turned to Mike, completely ignoring Gibbs.

"They're two minutes out."

"Ok. Ziva keep your radio on, McGee and DiNozzo same to you two and get going. Wait until you see the beams of the trucks before any of you move a damn muscle, we clear?"

Three heads nodded as one, before they all set off to their respective positions.

"You in the market for a new job Mike?" Gibbs grunted angrily.

No one gave orders to his team, but him.

He wouldn't admit that the reason he was angry was because they had followed them without question. Without even a glance at him.

They never did that.

"Can the attitude Probie, you're in enough grief as it is, that clear?"

No answer.

The second headslap landed an inch below the last one, with the same searing sting.

"I said, is that clear?" Mike repeated calmly.

Reaching up to rub the sting out of his head despite himself, Gibbs nodded angrily.

"Verbal answer gunny."

Sighing, Gibbs shot him a mutinous look and Mike's hand twitched visibly in response.

"Yes boss" he muttered, annoyed at just how quick the older man could transport him back to his rookie days with a look and well placed slap.

Smiling slightly, Mike nodded.

"Better" he said simply.

"Now, get to the right, I'll take the left. You do not even twitch a lip until we see the backup, understood?"

Gibbs nodded, slightly bemused at the cautious approach Mike was using.

It was very un-Franks.

When he thought of his three posted around the perimeter of the building however, he was glad of the man's change in attitude.

However transient he knew it to be.

A minute later, and right on schedule the very faint rumblings of the NCIS armed response team began to reach their ears.

A moment later, the first flashes of amber headlights met their eyes.

Gibbs was about to burst through the door at this, but despite himself he hesitated, shooting a questioning glance at Franks who after assessing the scene for the last time, nodded.

The two wrenched open the sliding hanger style door, at the very same time Ziva, Tony and Tim burst their way through their respective entrances.

Mike's surmising had been unnervingly accurate.

There were eight men in total.

Gibbs felt another shockwave of repulsion as he spied Logan in the middle of the shocked looking cartel group.

Mike gave the unspoken order to hold fire, even when guns were being trained on them from all angles.

"Logan" he growled, a staggering degree of disgust evident in the mere two syllables.

"Franks" the man drawled back, fighting hard to contain the shock he had felt when the previously Mexican housed man had burst into the warehouse.

To facilitate this, he turned to Gibbs with a pronounced sneer.

"I must confess myself mistaken Jethro" he taunted softly, his ears straining for the sounds of back up.

"You really _have_ changed, and not for the better. NCIS has made you soft old friend, the old Gibbs I knew would never have gone crying to his _daddy_ when things got a little rough."

Gibbs' venomous reply was cut short.

As angry as he was with Franks right now, no one was going to disparage him in front of his face like that.

"You wanna talk to anyone here Logan, you talk to me" Mike snarled in interruption, raising his gun higher, resting its aim on the man's right temple.

Logan raised his chin defiantly, his sociopathic tendencies rendering him completely unaffected by the hatred that was being directed at him from all angles.

"Call off your goons Logan, I'm sure you know that you have about twenty seconds before thirty or so armed federal agents join our little party. I can assure you, their orders do not include preservation of life."

Seeing the reason in this, the initiator of the ensuing chaos gave a nonchalant hand gesture to his surrounding men.

All of them obeyed without question.

Another testament to his unfeeling cruelty.

"You may have won this one Franks, but you surely know that I won't go away quietly" he said softly.

"See, I know things…very interesting thing, about your darling boy over there" he continued, jerking his head in the direction of a silent Gibbs who was concentrating exceptionally hard on not shooting the man dead where he stood.

As he opened his mouth to continue, he was cut off by a chilling laugh to rival even his own.

Gibbs himself was startled to hear the cold pealing of laughter from his mentors mouth.

"Ah, I thought we might hit this little snag Logan" Mike ground out slowly, enunciating each and every syllable.

"That's why I took the little liberty of making a few calls before we all met up to reminisce on times gone by."

Logan looked at him in evident confusion, alarmed by the confidence in the man's tone.

Mike cocked his head at him and smiled grimly.

"The US government don't care much for the delusional ramblings of suspected terrorists, Logan."

A strangled spluttering escaped the normally suave man in response.

"Terrorist? You're delusional man."

Mike merely smiled calmly back.

"Oh no, quite sane. Drunk maybe, but sane. You see, whilst there are _delightful_ agents outside right now, there are _equally_ delightful agents tearing up your rented home at this very moment. I hear already they've discovered some _very_ interesting things."

The colour completely drained from Logan's face, and he let out a feral snarl.

Leaping forwards, he drew a weapon from his holster and leapt forwards towards Mike.

His progress was halted by the instantaneous intrusion of armed to the teeth federal agents, who surged into the building from all sides.

Which in hindsight, Logan would reflect upon as being a lucky break.

Because it caused him to jump in shock, narrowly missing the bullet that Gibbs had unloaded, headed directly for the centre of his forehead.

As he was pinned to the ground, and heard his co-workers meeting a similar fate, he cursed the day he had ever met Mike Franks.

As he was hoisted uncerimonously to his feet, he found himself nose to nose with Mike himself, who smiled at him almost benevolently, before landed a searing punch into his gut.

Crouching down beside his buckled up frame, he leant forward to whisper into his ear.

Logan recoiled at the stench of tobacco and alcohol, but he felt himself swoon at the words that were murmured softly into his ear.

"If I ever find out that you or any of your… pharmaceutical friends have _breathed_ the same air as my boy again, I will personally gut each and every single one of you. But I will take my _time_ with _you._ Do you understand what I'm saying to you, Logan?"

The once confident man, gave a dejected and broken nod and Mike gave a jerk of his head and he was rapidly dragged from the building, alongside his horrified companions.

Turning, in the now surprising silence, Mike saw that all four agents still had their weapons drawn and pointed.

"Planning to kill me now, oh dream team?" he drawled sarcastically.

Jolting out of their reverie, senior agent, senior field and junior field agents put their guns away all staring at Franks in some kind of awe.

Even Gibbs, who was more used to the man than perhaps anyone else.

"C'mon, we got to get back to the Navy Yard. We need to be debriefed, and give statements."

When they merely stared blankly at him, he was reminded why he loved retirement so much.

"Move!" he barked.

Ziva, Tony and Tim shot out of the building obediently.

Gibbs was slightly mollified, when this time, they spared him what he could garner was a sympathetic look.

"Move, Probie. You're riding back with me."

Sensing the futility of argument, but being grated at the tones Mike was using with him, Gibbs gave a stiff nod and stalked from the warehouse.

Outside, the three had gathered around Tony's car, waiting for the elder two.

Mike seeing this, gave them a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Go on, the three of you. Probie and I are riding back, we'll see you there."

This time there was no mistaking the looks of sympathy that were being directed at him, which Gibbs found equally grating.

He knew Mike disapproved of his plan tonight, hell Mike didn't approve of much.

It was no big deal. There was no need for tea and sympathy about it.

As the car sped from the lot on its way back to the Navy Yard, Mike slipped into the passenger seat of Gibbs' car and glared at him expectantly.

Sighing, he slipped behind the wheel and roared the car into life.

The ride back was tense and silent, Gibbs' inquiries as to how the hell Mike had known where he was, how he had gotten there from Mexico and how he had pulled off all that he had were met with a stony glare and an unspoken order to shut the hell up.

Gibbs sighed in frustration, but heeded.

Trundling into the Navy Yard, he was further vexed when Mike stalked off in front of him with a clear indication that he was to trot at his heels.

Grinding his teeth in annoyance, he went with it and after all security checks they found themselves in the deserted bull pen, where Ziva, Tony and Tim were all seated at their desks.

Fidgeting anxiously.

As he was about to open his mouth to bark orders, he was again, cut off.

"You three, the director wants statements. Verbal ones first. His office, now, all of you."

The three jumped to their feet obediently, and headed off towards the staircase.

They didn't go fast enough for Gibbs's liking, as they no doubt caught the order that was then directed at him.

The loaded and vehement order.

"As for _you_ gunny, you're with me."

Gibbs looked at him in confusion, a confusion that was soon horrifically eroded.

"Conference room, right now. Move it."

…

TBC

…

A/N: There seems to be a glitch with the review page, where I get an email notification of a review and I can read what's been written and everything but they don't appear on the review page. Doesn't matter if it's user or guest reviews, they don't show. But they show in the review count, and all other stats are working fine. Anyone else experiencing this? Also, reviews I post myself, don't show on other's stories. It's super annoying!

Side note, for those who are following The Trust Equation, the next chapter will be up tomorrow!

Thanks for reading guys, and please let me know about the review situation, is it a site wide glitch or it just me? I can still read them!

Hope you enjoyed!


	22. Root Regression

Gibbs stormed through the door of the conference room he often dragged DiNozzo through, and growled when Mike slammed it shut behind him.

Striding to his habitual side of the large oak table, he shot his former boss a look that would have made any of his four hop on the first flight to Zanzibar, but which rendered the older man completely unperturbed.

"What are we doing here, Mike?" he snarled.

Across the other side of the table, the elder man sighed.

This… was going to take some time.

"Sit your sorry ass down, Probie."

Another glare was shot out across the bow.

"No."

Feeling his palm twitch, Mike bit down on his lip and tried to remember all the good points about the agitated marine in front of him, in an effort to refrain from killing him.

"Wasn't a request."

Snarling, Gibbs wrenched out a chair with much more force than was necessary and threw himself down on it.

"There, you happy now?"

Feeling distinctly _unhappy_ with the attitude being shown, Mike fixed the younger man with a ferocious stare that even he hadn't mastered yet with his four, and sat down on the opposite side of the table.

"I'll be happy when you decide to put a civil tongue in that stubborn skull of yours Jethro."

Biting his lip with a force that almost drew blood to keep from hurling insolence across the table, Gibbs remained silent.

He wasn't sure where his anger was coming from; he didn't do well with all this new fangled psychology business, so he didn't dwell on the source.

All he knew was, he was pissed as hell, and it was all Mike's fault.

Somehow, it was all Mike's fault.

He brought his three into harm's way, when he had gone _out_ of his way to prevent it. He showed up out of the blue and started issuing orders to _his_ team like they were own. To add insult to injury, he was treating him like a first year rookie that needed his ass kicked; all in all, the older man was _really_ starting to piss him off.

All his earlier relief at the man's arrival had seeped away, and as he sat staring angrily, Gibbs could have happily punched his old boss squarely in the jaw.

Mike for his part, sighed to himself.

He knew exactly what was going on in the younger man's head.

Gibbs was one hell of an agent, and he was one hell of a marine. Most of all, he was one hell of a man, and Mike was prouder of no other that he had trained. He was as protective of no other.

But the one thing he had never been able to drum into the angry man across from him with any degree of permanency, was respect for his own life, and it's value. He also knew that rather than confront that issue, the younger man was currently cursing him for all that had happened tonight.

He smiled slightly to himself. Same old gunny.

He knew Gibbs loved his team like they were his own, and he knew that it had taken a great deal of emotional development for the man to let _anyone_ like that into his life after Shannon and Kelly.

The fact that he had let _four_ people into his life like that, made Mike proud as hell.

But that _didn't_ give him the right to throw his own life around like it was a useless one cent coin, easily disposed of without a millisecond of consideration.

By the time they left this god damned room, Mike had already decided, that he was going to be damn sorry he ever concocted his moronic plan in the first place.

Leaning back in his chair and placing his arms behind his head, he looked calmly at the steaming mad marine.

"What's got you so wound up gunny?"

Gibbs gaped at him.

"Wound up?" he spluttered.

"Oh I don't know Mike, maybe it's got something to do with you bringing _my_ people into the middle of an explosively dangerous crime scene. Maybe it's got something to do with you ordering _my_ people around, as if I'm dead and buried. Maybe it's got something to do with how you refuse to tell me how the hell you knew where I was, why you're not in Mexico, and why the _hell_ you think you have the right to drag me in here like some green rookie!"

Biting back a grin at just how well he still knew his underling, Mike nodded with a feigned concentration.

"Let's address all those points then shall we?" he replied calmly.

Well, what would _seem_ calm to any normal outsider, but to Gibbs' trained ear he easily detected an undercurrent.

The "you're in trouble" tone he had been so accustomed to all those years ago.

The tone he now used with his own brood.

The use of that tone made him even angrier, and he glared silently across the table.

"Your people came to _me_ gunny. They tried to reach me in Mexico, but I was already in DC. I left my US number at the Cantina on the off chance someone would call. They said they needed my help, that something was seriously wrong with you. That you were hiding something. That you were in trouble."

He paused for a moment to see this register on Gibbs' face, and to his complete lack of surprise, he saw a flash of guilt cross the younger man's face.

It was a start at least.

"They _also_ told me that you'd been _hell_ to work for over the past week. Yelling at them for no good reason, snarling and huffing at them like a teenage girl after her first heartbreak. Slapping them, landing them with cold case after cold case and even taking away that… _music_ that young Abby listens to."

He paused for another moment and it didn't take 20/20 vision to see the obvious guilt that was now splashed across Gibbs' face as he listened silently.

"Is that how I taught you to treat your team gunny? Is that how I treated you?"

Squirming slightly despite himself and flushing at how unfair he had been with his people, Gibbs didn't reply.

"I asked you a question gunny."

Sighing, and remembering his own policy on lying, Gibbs gave a stiff shake of his head.

No it was _not_ how Mike had taught him and no it was _not_ how he had treated him.

He had been as hard as nails, sure, but never undeservedly so. Never.

"Verbal answer, now."

Scowling somewhat, but hearing the increased warning tone in the elder man's voice, Gibbs put away his pride.

Just for a moment.

"No boss" he replied quietly.

"Nope, didn't think so" Mike answered, shooting a dark look across the table.

Gibbs had the grace and good sense to look moderately ashamed of himself.

"Thought if you pissed them off enough they wouldn't go digging into what crawled up your ass gunny?"

Flushing slightly, Gibbs gave a stiff nod.

"If I have to ask you for verbal answers _one_ more time…"

Scowling once more, the younger man gritted his teeth before complying.

"Something like that, yeah, not my finest moment I admit, can we move on…this year maybe."

Mike glared at the flippancy of the answer, but moved on.

"So let me see, what was your next _issue…_ oh yes, my ordering your people around. Well, let's see, I think we can revert back to issue one for a moment. You clearly weren't in a fit state of mind to lead your people, and your people had spent the _week_ being berated for no good reason and believe it or not, weren't feeling all that pleased about being kept in the dark while you ran around playing the hero."

Gibbs opened his mouth to interrupt. Angrily.

Mike held up his hand in warning prevention. He had had just about enough of the attitude.

"You know the god damned drill gunny, if I'm talking, you're not."

Growling to himself, but otherwise lapsing into silence, Gibbs continued to merely glare.

"Next point. How I knew where you were and why I'm not drunk on my beach in Mexico, where I god damned should be. Let's see…you called me on Monday, you remember?"

Gibbs nodded slowly, unsure where this was going; he had given nothing away in his call to his mentor which was just a fishing expedition to see if the cartel had contacted him as well as himself.

When he had been satisfied that his boss hadn't been approached by Logan or his goons, he had made his excuses and ended the call.

Smiling to himself again as he correctly surmised what was going on Gibbs' head, Mike leaned forward slightly.

"You're nowhere near a good a liar as you think you are Probie, not with me anyways. I could always tell when you were telling me half truths, and I still can now. I knew there was something wrong with you the minute I heard your voice. I knew you were fishing for something. I knew that you were scared. I also knew that if I asked you outright, you'd lie through your teeth. So, naturally, I hopped on the first plane I could and arrived back to the homeland not long after."

Gibbs felt his mouth hang open slightly.

Either he was off his game, or Mike had a game that he could only hope to dream of retaining when he got to his age.

As he saw the controlled anger in his boss' poise, he rephrased that sentiment internally.

 _If_ he got to his age.

"I nosed around a bit when I got here; hit up a few buddies in private intelligence. They told me that new chatter was being collected about the possible establishment of a massive drug pipeline into DC. Cartel level stuff. I began to have my suspicions. As thick skulled as you are, you don't scare that easy. Naturally, Logan and his cronies came to mind."

Gibbs began to squirm in his chair despite himself, his actions in taking on an international cartel by himself were beginning to sound more and more stupid the more they were vocalised and rationalised.

"I met up with your people then. Firstly, I had to calm them down some seeing how you been treating them" he paused briefly to shoot Gibbs another dark look, who in response looked down at the table in obvious shame.

"I ain't telling you came up with what or who did what, because frankly I'm not sure you deserve your team right now gunny, but between the five us and the jigs and the reels of it all, we hacked your calls, bugged your car with a tracker, we got there before you and caught a _moron_ gunny in the net."

Gibbs dropped his marine core stoicism and flinched at the scathing reprimand.

The fact that Mike couldn't trust him to tell him which one of his team came up with what in case he treated them unfairly, stung.

It stung like hell.

"I was trying to protect them…" he murmured softly.

Mike felt the desire to soften himself, but knew it wouldn't be in the younger mans interests.

"Protect them?" he repeated angrily.

"Gunny, if I hadn't turned up when I did they were going after you. I don't know what they would have come up with, but they were going after you. You think they didn't hack your cell before I came to town? Your stupid, idiotic idea at protecting them put them in more danger than they were in to begin with!"

Gibbs visibly blanched and recoiled in his chair.

"I didn't think they would figure it out…" he said to himself more than anything.

"You got two freaking geniuses, an assassin and one hell of a talented second in command for a team, and you _didn't_ _think they would figure it out?"_

Gibbs didn't even answer this time, dropping his head slightly and lamenting his own stupidity.

"Let's move on, shall we?" Mike continued angrily, and ignored the paling complexion of his frustrating charge.

"Where are we now…oh yes, why I have the _right…_ the _right_ you say? The _right_ to drag you in here and treat you like this?"

Gibbs visibly winced at this and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Boss, I-"

"Shut your mouth unless I ask you to open it, got it?"

Feeling completely deflated, Gibbs nodded mutely.

"So, _what gives me the right_ …hmm, tell me Jethro, what would _you_ do to one of _your_ four if they acted this stupidly, recklessly, dangerously and put their lives on the line without a second thought?"

A dull flush crept across the special agent's cheeks, and he looked away in response.

"I asked you a question."

Gibbs couldn't help but squirm and flush further, still, he didn't answer.

Looking on at this uncharacteristic showing of embarrassment, realisation dawned on Mike.

"I see" he said simply.

And dangerously.

"Let me rephrase then, what _did_ you do _when_ one of yours did something so stupid, reckless and dangerous?"

The younger man looked up with an unspoken plea to let the question go.

It was to no avail.

"Which one?" Mike prompted, figuring it was Tony.

That kid was the most like Gibbs and that meant he was as stubborn and impulsive as the man fidgeting in front of him.

When the younger man still failed to answer, Mike took in a deep breath to refrain from raising his voice.

"I asked you a direct question gunny, answer me."

Sighing in resignation and looking down at the table, Gibbs steeled himself, remembering the events of the last couple of months with chagrin.

"All of them" he murmured quietly.

A brief silence ensued as Mike digested this information.

"I see you're taking the whole leading by example thing to the extreme."

This gleaned a scowl from the younger man to which Mike had to bite back a chuckle.

"Alright then, all of them. What did you do?" he again prompted.

Knowing that disclosure was inevitable, Gibbs closed his eyes briefly.

"I paddled the boys and spanked the girls, ok? You happy now?"

Frowning at the tone, Mike decided to let it go as he nodded slowly.

"Tell me, what gave you the _right_ to do that Jethro?" he drawled sarcastically.

Looking up blankly, Gibbs merely looked his confusion.

"The right?" he repeated.

"Yep, the right gunny, the right."

Sighing and wishing that he himself was drunk on the beaches of Mexico, Gibbs restrained himself from rolling his eyes.

With great difficulty.

"They're my people Mike, my responsibility. They answer to me for their screw up's."

Nodding and staring pointedly at the younger man, Mike waited patiently.

The penny eventually dropped.

"That's different, Mike" Gibbs said quietly, and as respectfully as he could.

"They're kids, the whole lot of them. I'm closer to retirement than I am promotion, I don't _need_ you to read me the riot act to know I've screwed up. Besides, you're not my boss anymore. But I am theirs."

Leaning back in his chair, Mike was now the one who had to refrain from rolling his eyes.

With the same degree of difficulty.

"So, you don't hold yourself to your own rules anymore Jethro? It's ok for _you_ to act like a half cocked ass, but not for _them_?"

Gritting his teeth once more, Gibbs flashed another glare across the table.

"It's not like that" he ground out.

Suddenly feeling very tired, he yearned this conversation to come to an end.

"Look, are we done now? I messed up, I get it. Can we go get a beer and forget this whole mess?"

Shaking his head sadly at the long way he had to go to bring the younger man to his senses, Mike scrubbed a tired hand across his face and let out a sigh.

"Done?" he eventually growled.

"I haven't even started with you yet Probie."

Looking up incredulously, Gibbs glanced at the wall mounted clock.

"Haven't started with me? You've been yelling at me for nearly half an hour" he shot back angrily.

Glancing up at the clock as if it was the most interesting thing in the world, Mike turned back to an ashen faced Gibbs and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah, so I have" he agreed, amiably enough, irritated by the look of relief that spread across the younger man's face clearly thinking that the talking to was over.

The look was quickly wiped off his face with the next words that fell out of his mentor's mouth.

"I _do_ hope for your sake it doesn't take _another_ half an hour for my belt to get through to you."

A heavy and loaded silence ensued.

The air that tickled Gibbs' tonsils wasn't unpleasant, but he almost gagged on it as he leapt up from his chair, causing it to career back into the wall with a crash.

"No way Mike. No way."

Standing up, the elder man shook his head in exasperation.

"Yes gunny, yes way."

"It's not happening" Gibbs growled loudly, the idea of being subjected to such long lost corrections being a complete and utter absurdity to him.

"Oh, yes it is Jethro" Mike drawled slowly, "you seem to think that I believe that you've listened to a single word I just said. Well let me tell you this Probie, you're mistaken. The only way to get through to you when you're like this is with my belt to your ass, and it's happening, whether you like it or not."

Gibbs folded his arms across his chest and let out a sarcastic laugh, his earlier anger returning.

He knew he'd screwed up royally, and he knew if it was any of his four they wouldn't be sitting for a month, but he was their team leader whereas, he hadn't worked under the older man in front of him for years.

There was no way in hell he was going to take a whipping from him.

No matter how much Mike thought he deserved it.

"Try it, go on try it" he sneered in a very un-Gibbs like tone, "see what happens."

A tense silence hung in the air for just a moment, before an intensely angry but controlled Mike broke it, in a sad voice that took the artificial smirk straight off Gibbs' face.

"Nope" he said simply, "I ain't going to force you over that table Probie, has to be your choice, you know that. But I never in my wildest dreams thought I could be this disappointed in you…never in my wildest dreams…did I think I'd raised a hypocrite."

With that he turned, and with a sad shake of his head, walked towards the conference room door to exit.

He barely had the handle turned down, before a quiet but steady voice rang out from the corner.

"Boss…wait."

….

TBC

…

.


	23. One Rule, One Team

Mike suppressed a small, knowing smile as he removed his hand from the door.

He still knew the man like the back of his hand.

Turning; he schooled his facial expressions once more and raised a brow.

"Probie?"

Gibbs floundered for a moment, torn between conflicting emotions.

Eventually letting out a dramatic sigh, he threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.

"All right, all right! Fine. Let me have it then" he snapped angrily.

Remaining silent, Mike merely arched an eyebrow further and stared the angry marine down.

Like he had done countless times in the past.

Sighing again, but with considerably less wind, Gibbs grudgingly corrected himself.

"I mean, can we please just get this over with boss."

Returning his right eyebrow to its original location, Mike gave a brief nod.

"Front and centre then Jethro, I take it you remember the position?"

Snarling slightly, Gibbs nodded sharply and stormed from the corner of the room to stand and face the centre of the large polished conference room table.

He subconsciously landed himself at the very spot where he had bent DiNozzo and McGee over countless times, and hesitated slightly.

His current situation was just so surreal, that it phased even him, who prided himself on being unsurprised at all eventualities.

Turning to his old mentor, he threw him an uncharacteristically pleading look.

The right eyebrow shot up again in response, and Mike tilted his head slightly.

"Bend yourself over that table right now probie, or I'll do it for you. Wouldn't be the first time now would it?"

Shooting the older man a look of pure venom and rolling his eyes in response, Gibbs took a deep breath and turned back to the table, quietly draping himself over it.

He closed his eyes at the sounds of Mike unbuckling his belt, and the swoosh of the thick leather being pulled through pant loops. The memories of years gone by and screw ups made came flooding back to him as he buried his head in his arms, memories he never thought he'd be repeating.

Mike for his part, silently doubled the belt in his hand, tucking the buckle tightly in his palm.

He sighed as he surveyed the angry form of his bent over protégée.

He knew that the younger man had only agreed to having his backside tanned to appease him, and not because he thought he really deserved it, or because he appreciated the danger he had placed himself in.

He deliberately didn't call him out on it, because he knew that whilst he was still riled up and defensive, Gibbs would never see sense.

The only way to get through to him, to break down his self reliant barriers and his obstinacies, was to force him to face the asinine nature of his actions.

Mike had learned a long time ago, that the best way to do that with Leroy Jethro Gibbs was with a thrashing.

Sighing once more, he too felt a flow of memories and felt himself smile somewhat despite the situation.

The gunny might be in a similar draped over position as he had been all those years ago, but he'd come one hell of a long way since then and Mike swelled with pride every time he remembered that.

Shaking his head slightly to jerk himself out his memory lane reverie, he moved forwards and placed a firm hand on the small of Gibbs' back.

He pretended not to hear the vicious growling of "I don't need to be held down for god's sake" and "I'm the one who _gives_ these damns things out these days" that wafted up from the tangle of arms in response.

Mike merely increased his hold and remembered sadly just how very much he'd always despised having to punish the younger man. He certainly didn't envy him his job of keeping _four_ of the most headstrong kids he'd ever met in line.

Sighing, he resolved to get down to it and drew his arm back in a wide arc.

The first lick landed with a resounding crack that reverberated around the room, and immediately drew a very gentle hiss from its recipient.

The recipient quickly stifled the hiss by biting down on his lip and sucking in a deep breath.

Gibbs had lost count of the times he'd taken his own belt to the boys, and to a lesser extent Ziva, over the years and he had clearly forgotten how much it _hurt._

Squaring his shoulders he resolved to let no further sound escape him, determined not to give Mike the satisfaction of reducing him to whimpering. He kept that thought viciously in place as the belt fell again, directly below the last blow and the next one below that.

It took all of his training not to make a sound or to move a muscle, but all his hopes that the elder man would be in no physical condition to deliver a whipping like he used to were quickly diminishing.

The building sting in his backside was every bit as intense as he remembered.

As the next lick landed, he winced and squeezed his eyes further shut as the last hope pool of Mike merely dishing out a token or symbolic punishment also faded into nothingness.

For his part, the elder man was silent as he rained down firm and deliberate blows on the upturned backside in front of him.

He would talk, when the time was right, but not before then.

Groaning inwardly, he increased pressure on the small of Gibbs' back and tipped him forwards slightly.

Gibbs himself, who had both experience in feeling the increased pressure on the small of the back and being the one to increase pressure on the small of the back, cringed as he realised what was coming.

Biting down on his lip, he stiffened his resolve to remain silent and stoic.

But it was becoming harder and harder to bite back the natural responses that yearned to escape him.

The first searing blow that caught him on his upper thighs, drew a small gasp.

The second that landed just above that, drew a slightly louder gasp and the third that landed a centimetre above that, drew the first loud gasp.

Each utterance of discomfort caused Mike to wince, but he resolutely brought the belt up and down with a quickened tempo.

Challenged by the still stiff and angry stature of his charge, he added an extra degree of force in the next three licks he rained down upon him.

The increased intensity drew the first verbal response of the already fairly long punishment.

"Damn it Mike, enough already" Gibbs growled out between gritted teeth.

His backside was on fire and staying in position was becoming a real and seemingly insurmountable challenge.

Rolling his eyes at how the younger man still thought he was in charge despite his current position, Mike calmly landed another lick.

"It's enough when I _say_ it's enough" he replied firmly.

Much more firmly than he felt.

In truth he wanted nothing more than to pull the hot headed man up and into a hug, but he knew they had a long way to go before that could happen.

Growling, Gibbs buried his head further into his arms and wondered how the hell one week could go so wrong.

Mike dished out four more blows before he decided that he needed to inject some vocals into the lesson he was trying to teach.

Removing his hand from the man's back for a moment, he crouched down beside where Gibbs had his head tangled in his arms.

He flinched when he heard the heavy and ragged breathing.

He knew the younger man had to be hurting, and badly.

Pulling himself together, he cleared his throat.

"Why are you getting this right now Jethro?" he asked, allowing a gentle note to creep into his voice.

Gibbs didn't answer for a moment, chagrined by the fact that the pause in the strapping was clearly by no means an indication of its end.

"Come on boss…just do what you have to do and let me go home" he growled back, but his growl didn't carry its usual bite.

Sighing, Mike shook his head.

"Answer me, now."

Gibbs grit his teeth, but as he felt another flare up in his backside he gave in.

"Because I screwed up" he hissed.

Rolling his eyes, Mike stood and strode back to his original position, replacing his hand on Gibbs' back.

Three hard licks and three loud yelps later, and he was again crouching down beside his charges head.

"Try again probie, but remember I got all night. So think hard now, _why are you getting this?_ "

Gasping for breath slightly, Gibbs racked his brains for a suitable answer.

"Because I was reckless" he eventually mumbled, his words muffled by his arms being pressed against it.

Thanking the lord for the tentative beginnings of progress, Mike nodded approvingly even though the younger man couldn't see him.

He groaned as he went for the kill shot, but he needed to get the man to see sense before he would never be able to sit again.

"How do you think Abby and Ziva would look as they cried over your god damned grave probie?" he asked. Deliberately enunciating each syllable to their fullest effect.

"How do you think DiNozzo and McGee would fare out on their own, without you?" he inquired, with the same deathly degree of careful elocution.

He hated saying these things to his wilful charge, but he knew he needed to say them and the guilt he felt in saying them was slightly assuaged as they had their desired effect.

The angry and stiff posture of the younger man instantly gave way to a slumped and defeated stature as he lay over the table, hearing words he never wanted to hear.

"Did you even think about that? Did you even consider how _Ducky_ would take the news if the highly probable happened tonight, and you wound up on his god damned table?"

A slight silence ensued as the accusing words hung in the air, enclosing the two men.

"No boss" Gibbs murmured quietly, a feeling of guilt coming over him that made even the monosyllabic words a chore to verbalise.

"Didn't think so."

With that, Mike again returned to his original position and placing his hand on the small of Gibbs' back, he dished out a quick but intense volley of licks that caused Gibbs to completely abandon his marine stoicism and to cry out with each stroke.

Mike knew that the yelping was a sign that he was finally getting through to the younger man, but also that he was beginning to appreciate the enormity of his poor decision making. As he lay down two more stinging blows, he again dropped down beside a now distinctly sniffling Jethro.

"Tell me probie, how do you think…" his faltered for a moment, the lump in his throat that materialised as he thought about the prospect that was restricting his speech.

Pulling himself together, he tried again.

"How do you think _I_ would have coped with that phone call, if it came?"

At this, Gibbs let out a protesting moan, all his earlier anger and arrogance having completely evaporated.

"Please boss…" he gasped out, miserably.

Wishing with all his might he could yield to the plea, Mike stood his ground resolutely, if albeit reluctantly.

"No probie, you tell me. How do you think I would have god damned coped? Or your _goddaughter_ for that matter? Tell me, how would _you_ have coped if was one of _yours_ that you got that call about?"

Another brief silence ensued, punctuated only by a strangled groan from Gibbs.

"It'd kill me" he whispered.

Mike, uncharacteristically for him in the middle of dishing out a punishment, reached out and grasped the heavily breathing man by the shoulder and squeezed it gently.

"Yeah? Well it would just about kill me too probie, so do me a favour and _think_ the next time, would ya?"

As the tsunami of guilt hit him, Gibbs nodded his head vigorously, no longer caring as to whether he was presenting a strong front or not.

Withdrawing his hand, Mike nodded to himself and tried to dredge up the resolve he needed to finish up with his hard headed, but big hearted ward.

"I intend to make sure of it Jethro" he said firmly, but with an indefinable air of sadness.

The tone made Gibbs stiffen, sure that it wasn't anything that boded well for him.

He was correct.

"Stand up, and lose the jeans and pants probie" Mike instructed firmly, mentally preparing himself for a mammoth battle, but being determined to win.

He needn't have bothered.

Gibbs, albeit after a few moments, obediently stood and fumbled with the clasp of his belt buckle.

Mike was jolted out of his pleasant surprise at the following of orders when he saw the pained nature of the younger mans eyes.

He'd always hated causing any of his men pain, but it always cut him up more when it was Jethro.

Busying himself with taking a firm grasp of the belt still in his hand, he waited patiently for Gibbs to put himself back into position.

When Gibbs had draped himself back over the table, he moved forwards once more and placed a hand on the small of his back for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

Without further adieu, he raised him arm high and brought the heavy belt down hard upon the now scarlet backside. Predictably, Gibbs bucked under his hold slightly and let out a strangled yelp in response.

Tightening his hold slightly, Mike again settled into a steady tempo, bringing the belt down quick enough to never allow for any respite, but slowly enough so as to allow the stinging pain to reach its peak.

Seeing the shoulders sag and the torso begin to go limp, he noted with great relief that the punishment was nearly at a close and that his protégée had almost had enough.

This was always the point at which he, much to Gibbs' current and historic dismay, began to lecture.

"You don't _ever_ pull a bone headed, martyr syndrome, imbecilic stunt like this again, are we clear?"

The strangled and muffled "yes boss" was further muffled by the crack of another stinging lick meeting bare skin.

Five more blows came in quick succession after that, which to Gibbs chagrin, brought tears to his eyes as the pain in his backside began to reach intolerable levels.

"Do you _realise_ that you got four kids out there that hang on your every word probie? That think you're the greatest thing to ever come out of a woman? Do you want them to think that the way you carried on tonight is the way _they_ should act in the field? You wanna get them _killed_ Jethro?"

This time, the belt didn't need to fall for the tears to make their way down Gibbs' face.

The words hurt much more than the leather ever could.

Knowing this, Mike bit his lip to hold onto his resolve for just a few more moments, and waited patiently for an answer.

When it was clear non was forthcoming, he sighed and landed another lick on the now ruby red backside.

"Verbal answer, right now."

Gasping for breath and feeling his eyes burning with hot, salty tears, Gibbs tried to pull himself together.

"N-no boss…wasn't….I wasn't… thinking" he managed to get out, shakily.

"Well, you better god damned _think_ the next time, because if I have to do this again you'll need to return to retirement to recover. Is that clear?"

Gulping somewhat into his arms, Gibbs nodded immediately.

"Clear…it's clear boss."

Softening his tone somewhat, Mike unconsciously rubbed small, soothing circles on Gibbs' back.

"Get this through your head probie. You matter. You matter to them and you matter to me, and a whole lot of other people. You can't keep throwing your life around like it don't matter, because it does. It matters a hell of a lot. You got that?"

Flushing somewhat at the unusual display of emotion coming from his mentor, Gibbs nodded slowly.

"I got it" he murmured softly, his voice strained from his silent crying.

"Well…good" Mike answered gruffly, not being very good with all this _feelings_ business.

"You got ten more coming, and you better be thinking about all the people you let down tonight and getting it into that thick skull of yours that your team could have helped you tonight, if you'd let them. Understood?"

Paling at the pronouncement of ten more licks and squirming at the thoughts of how betrayed his four probably felt, Gibbs once again nodded sadly.

"Understood boss" he answered, in a hitched voice.

His backside was on fire and he wasn't sure he could take anymore.

But he also knew that Mike had never, and would never; give him any more than he could take.

Closing his eyes and gritted his teeth, he held his breath as he felt Mike raise his arm up high…

The last ten were dished out in a quick flurry, but each one drew a ragged whimper from Gibbs as they fell.

By the fifth, tears were once again streaming freely down his face and he squirmed under Mike's grasp.

His squirming was to no avail, and a further five fell with an unnerving accuracy and by the last stroke, Gibbs was completely emotionally drained, as he lay slumped over the desk with tears continuing to fall fast and hard down his face.

Mike for his part had never been so glad to throw his belt out of his hand, and to kneel down beside his wayward charge.

Gibbs was a stoic and strong man, but he knew from experience that after a punishment like the one he'd just dished out, his probie always needed his comfort and reassurance afterwards.

He placed a warm hand on the man's shoulder and allowed him to completely cry himself out as he was, and murmured gently to him all the while. It had been a long time since he'd had to provide that kind of comfort, but he was relieved when it came as naturally to him now as it did all those years ago with a much younger and much more impulsive Jethro.

When he sensed the crying had completely stopped, and heard the breathing begin to return to normality he quietly rose, and placing a gentle hand on Gibbs' shoulder, carefully pulled him to his feet.

"Up you get now son, come on there you are now, up you get" he encouraged softly.

Deftly turning away and fixing the chairs in the conference room to give Gibbs' space to adjust his clothing, he smiled softly when the strangled yelp behind him let him know that the jeans had been returned to their rightful position.

Turning, he winced as he saw the red rimmed and bleary eyes, the flushed face and the uncharacteristically sombre Jethro that looked back at him.

Swallowing down the guilt by reminding himself it was for the younger man's own good, he looked at him searchingly.

"How you doing probie?"

A few anxious moments passed as Gibbs merely stared at him from watery blue eyes, and Mike was beginning to fear their tight relationship may have been damaged by his reasserting his role in the agent's life.

His worries melted away when his protégée broke into the rueful grin that he always grinned after having had a conversation with Mike's belt.

"You may be pushing ninety boss, but you sure as hell ain't lost your touch."

Snorting in relief, Mike reached out and rapped Gibbs smartly upside the head.

"You cheeky pup probie, I don't look a day over sixty, you say different again and I'll show you just how _much_ I ain't lost my touch."

Grinning and rolling his eyes, Gibbs felt light headed with relief that he no longer exuded guilt, or worry, or misery. As much as he would never admit it, having Mike take the reins for a bit…had been nice. If very painful. The responsibility he carried was a heavy one, and not being the one to make the calls that could get people killed had been…a relief, even for a short while.

Looking fondly at his clearly deep in thought charge, Mike chuckled slightly.

"You too important to give an old man a hug now, probie?" he asked, opening his arms for the traditional, albeit historic, post punishment embrace.

"Nope" Gibbs replied softly, as he leaned into the outstretched limbs in the same way he had so often pulled one of his four into his arms after a punishment.

Holding him tightly, Mike murmured softly into his ear.

"Don't you do this to me again son, you hear?"

The quiet "yes boss" was sincere and immediate, and the elder man smiled happily as he released his charge from his hold.

"Right, so all that's left to do is for you to go on up now and get chewed out by the director" he grinned.

Gibbs instantly made a face, having forgotten that Leon knew about his ill advised jaunt.

Fixing Mike with a glare that was much more characteristic than his earlier openness, he sighed.

"Did you _really_ have to rat me out to the freaking _director_ , Mike?"

Laughing at the wounded tone, the elder man nodded.

"Sure did, had no choice, not when it comes to your safety. I got a feeling you're going to be drowning in cold cases until you actually finish that damned boat."

Sighing as he realised his mentor was most likely right, Gibbs pushed Leon and his disapproval out of his mind for a moment.

"You're staying at my place tonight, there's t-bones and beer in the fridge. Help yourself. I'll meet you there in a while."

Grinning at the thoughts of a fire roasted steak, Mike nodded.

"Oh, I don't mind waiting around for the director to spank you probie" he teased with a laugh.

Glaring once more, Gibbs shook his head in exasperation.

"Hilarious Mike, just hilarious. Go on, go. And…send my team up to me, would you please? They'll all be in the bull pen as you're leaving."

Mike quickly stopped laughing and levelled a searching look at his protégée.

"I want them up here so I can apologise to them."

Feeling himself swell with pride, the elder man nodded slowly.

"Changing your mind about apologies now, Jethro?"

Smiling as he led him to the door, Gibbs shook his head.

"Nope. Apologies have always been ok where family are concerned."

"That right?"

Gibbs looked at him squarely and nodded.

"Yeah, it is… and… I'm sorry boss, it won't happen again."

Mikes hand once again found the younger mans shoulder and he squeezed gently.

"Atta boy probie, atta boy."

With that, the retired agent swept from the room and Gibbs leant back against the wall and yelped as his backside made contact with the cool surface.

He took a deep breath and swiped a hand across his face and upon glancing in the mirror was satisfied that he looked distinctly less red eyed.

Eying the hard conference room chairs dubiously, he decided to continue standing as he waited for his team to arrive.

He gulped slightly as he remembered the looks of hurt and disapproval that had been etched on Tony, Tim and Ziva's face at the warehouse.

He gulped even further when he realised that he hadn't even _seen_ Abby yet.

Moments passed, and he found himself being absurdly grateful for the intense pain that radiated across his backside, it took his mind off the impending conversation ever so slightly.

Before long, a sharp knock came on the door that he instantly recognised as Tony's.

"Come in" he called out, relieved to hear that his voice had returned to normal.

The door swung open and in trooped the four, with Tony leading the way and Ziva bringing up the rear.

They all assembled in a line in front of Gibbs and four sets of eyes were looking anywhere and everywhere but him.

"Hey guys" he murmured softly, trying to gauge their emotions.

Two "hey boss" and two "hey Gibbs" rang back and to his relief he detected no major resentment, but still, all eight eyes were focussing anywhere but him.

"Could you all look at me please?"

Four pairs of eyes snapped up and he searched them closely.

With Abby, it was a mix of latent fear and blatant relief.

With Ziva, it was the same.

With Tim, it was the same thing again.

With Tony, it was… the same thing again.

Feeling slightly confused, Gibbs tilted his head slightly but decided to get what he had to do over and done with.

"I owe you four an apology. What I did tonight, was out of line. It was stupid. It was dangerous and it was reckless. It was also hypocritical of me, I've punished each and every one of you for pulling the same kind of stunt that I did tonight. I can assure you, it will never happen again. I want each of you to know, that the reason I didn't tell you, was because, in my own moronic way, I was trying to protect you, it has _nothing_ to do with me not trusting you. I'm sorry guys, I was wrong."

He paused for a moment to draw breath, completely unused to such long bouts of speech. He bit back a chuckle at the looks of raw shock evident on each face that looked back at him.

"I also owe you guys an apology for the way I've been treating you for the last week. I had some idiotic notion that if I got you guys to hate me, you wouldn't look into what I was doing and you'd be protected from whatever happened. It was a stupid idea and I'm sorry, none of you deserved the slaps or the extra work, or the removal of privileges, and I promise you it will never happen again."

As he finished his speech, he took another deep breath and waited patiently for a response.

It was all he could do.

He could understand if his people didn't want to accept it, he wouldn't force the issue.

Silence therefore ensued as five people were lost to their own thoughts.

It was Tony who broke it.

"So…" he began, looking intensely confused…"so we're not in trouble? I'm not in trouble?"

Gibbs looked at him blankly, and then at the other three blankly as they clearly were thinking the same thing.

"No, of course you're not in trouble" he blurted out, "why would you be in trouble?"

Another brief moment of silence.

"Because we called Mike" Abby provided guiltily.

"No… _I_ called Mike" Tony corrected instantly, wanting Gibbs to be under no illusion as to who to blame.

Gibbs shook his head slowly, as he cast an eye around his four charges.

"No, you're far from being in trouble. I'm proud of each and every one of you for doing what you did, and I want to thank you for watching my six. You did nothing wrong, I'm the only one at fault here, you guys got that?"

A tangible relief broke out amongst them as they nodded as one.

"Good" Gibbs smiled, "and…" he flushed slightly, "am I forgiven?"

His responses were varied, but sincere.

Abby launched herself into his arms and squeezed the life out of him.

Ziva reached round and kissed him on the forehead, the two exchanging a look that said what words couldn't.

Tim clapped one shoulder and Tony the other.

"Course you're forgiven boss, no one's perfect, not even the great Leroy Jethro Gibbs" Tony provided with a snort, drawing approving nods from the other three gathered around them.

Rolling his eyes, but feeling intensely relieved, the elder of the five smiled his crooked smile.

"Thanks DiNozzo…I think" he murmured, his eyes twinkling, feeling intensely relieved that the whole debacle was now well and truly behind him.

"Did you get in trouble? We didn't mean for you get in trouble." Abby asked anxiously, her eyes round with worry.

"Yeah, was Mike mad?" Tim enquired, with a similar degree of anxiety.

Sighing slightly, Gibbs nodded and felt himself flush at the complete role reversal that had just happened.

He was definitely not used to being reprimanded to the knowledge of his team, but he knew he owed them the truth.

"Yeah…he was pretty mad."

Tony let out a peeling laugh at this, and his eyes flashed mischievously.

"Hey boss, you look tired. Why don't you take a seat? Here perhaps, on this non padded government issue chair?"

Gibbs glared half heartedly at the four as they all burst into laughter in response.

"Nice guys….real nice" he growled, which just caused them to laugh all the more.

"Right, that's it" he added, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the collective joviality, "you can all forget about having your favourite food on standby for the next time one of _you_ are in trouble."

Four smiles instantly evaporated, each team member looking like someone had just died.

"Just kidding, just kidding" he teased, rolling his eyes at their dramatics.

Glancing at his watch and seeing the pools of sleep gather in all four of his people's eyes, he quickly slipped back into boss mode.

"Ok you lot, beat it. Go get some rest."

All four looked at each other in response, shuffling slightly.

Gibbs recognised the furtiveness and sighed.

"What have you done guys?"

Silence ensued once again, and as three pairs of eyes fell upon Tony, who groaned but took the lead.

"Well…boss, see…well the thing is…"

"Spit it out, DiNozzo."

Nodding, Tony tried again.

"Well, it's just….we kinda knew that uhm…Mike would be a bit….uhh, agitated, with you. So we sort of rented out your favourite movies and stuff, and got your favourite food and things like that and thought we could spend the night at your place, to keep you company…is all, if you want that is…if you don't that's cool too."

Gibbs felt his throat constrict slightly as he digested this.

Maddening though they might be, as he looked around the four standing in front of him, he realised once again how very fortunate he was.

Thanks you lot….that's sounds great, Mike's probably already at my place, why don't you go on and join him and I'll be back soon?"

Four smiles met this and they again nodded in unison, making their way to the conference room door.

As Ziva, Abby and Tim made their way out of the room and down the hall, Tony lingered for a moment with the weary looking Jethro.

"You ok, Tony?"

A grin flashed across the kids face, and Gibbs' eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"You want a magazine boss?"

Confusion spread across the elder man's face in response.

"Huh?"

The grin widened further.

"You know boss, a magazine. To put down the back of your pants for your conversation with the director."

The headslap was fast but gentle as Gibbs snorted.

"Get out of it you brat, now" he rebuked fondly, and laughed when Tony shot him a trademark DiNozzo grin and scarpered after the others.

The laughter faded as he realised he still _did_ have to deal with Leon.

Sighing once more, but squaring his shoulders, he set off down the hall wincing as the tough fabric of his denim chafed against his scarlet backside.

Coming to a halt outside Leon's door, his secretary having long since gone home, he decided he better knock for once.

Striding in upon command, he positioned himself in front of Vance's desk and attempted to school his features into contrition.

Usually of course he would argue, talk back and sneer at anything the other man had to say to him, but he so desperately just wanted to go home, that he was willing to take the reprimand on the chin.

Plus…he tentatively supposed he deserved it.

"Gibbs."

"Director."

The NCIS head leant forwards on his desk and looked up at his incorrigible agent with an expressionless face.

"You ever pull a stunt like this again, and I don't care who you are, you're out that door. Is that clear?"

Wincing slightly, Gibbs nodded.

"Yes director."

"You just bought yourself on call rotation for the next month for court testimony, urgent incident reports and armed escort duty. You're also to report to archives and pick up a month's worth of cold cases, to be worked on in your own time. Is that also clear?"

Gibbs stifled a groan and bit back words of protest, but again nodded his head.

"Yes director" he replied, fighting hard to keep a mutinous tone out of his voice.

"Good, then go on. Get out of my sight."

Feeling himself gape somewhat, Gibbs looked at the man quizzically.

"What, that's it?"

Looking up serenely, Vance nodded in confirmation.

"That's it, now beat it."

Hardly daring to believe his luck at not being subjected to an hour long lecture about his actions, Gibbs hastily made his retreat from the office.

As he place a hand on the door, he was momentarily stopped by Vance calling out after him.

"Oh, and tell Mike I send my heartfelt thanks for dealing with my HR issues so soundly, won't you Gibbs? Man has taken a weight off my shoulders" he said sweetly, with a definite hint of amusement in his tone.

Turning back, Gibbs saw the satisfied smirk adorning the man's face and scowled.

"You really are a-"

Vance held up a hand, and raised a brow.

"Now, now Jethro…really? Do you really want me to pick up the phone and ring Mike and ask him to come _back_ down here?"

In the time it took the director to blink, Leroy Jethro Gibbs was gone.

Shutting the door quietly as he left.

Vance leaned back in his chair and chuckled to himself.

God bless Mike Franks.

….

TBC

….

A/N: Please tell me that I'm not the only one totally horrified by the news that Michael Weatherly (Tony) is leaving the show?! With Mark Harmon (Gibbs) nearing 65, surely his days are numbered also. The bond between the original team is what made the show for me and it's been sad to see the way the writers have failed to develop DiNozzo's character over time. *Sniffs*

Anyways, hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions as to where to go next!


	24. All's Well that Ends Well

Strolling cheerfully, if albeit painfully, into his house Gibbs smiled at the scene that greeted him.

Mike was thrown in the nearest arm chair, looking peaceful.

The two girls had clearly won the war he just knew had raged for control of the couch and were lounging happily, whilst the two boys were sprawled haphazardly on the floor.

Vast amounts of food adorned the coffee table, and a cold beer was sitting on the table beside his usual spot in the corner of the room.

Walking in and depositing himself gingerly in his chair, he gracefully pretended not to notice the grins that were furtively exchanged between his four in response.

"What are we watching then?" he said gently, by way of greeting, offering Mike a nod in the process.

Tony answered first.

Of course he did.

"This, boss" he grinned, clambering to his feet and brandishing a DVD case, "is going to blow your mind."

Feigning a frown, Gibbs tilted his head to the side.

"Oh really? I thought we were watching _my_ favourite film?"

Tony grinned and looked at the other three who grinned back.

"Well…we _were,_ but then…Mike said he wasn't suffering through it again and we could pick whatever we wanted instead."

Gibbs shot a glare at the elder man who smiled benignly back at him.

"Oh _did_ he indeed?"

"Not a problem right, Jethro?" he answered sweetly, now grinning at his protégée.

Giving up with a dramatic sigh, Gibbs smiled and waved to Tony to put on whatever hell he was about to be subjected to with good grace.

Abby stood next and gathering up a few bits on bobs on a plate from the makeshift buffet on the table, pressed the now dangerously overflowing plate into Gibbs' hands.

"Eat" she commanded, "you're peaky looking."

Rolling his eyes at her tone, he obligingly took the food and quickly kissed her on the forehead.

Settling down and discreetly wincing as a pain radiated through him, he looked fondly at the five people amassed in his living room.

Each of them drove him up the wall at times, but he knew he was damned lucky to have them.

As the film got underway, some classic black and white number that he hated on sight, he felt himself relax completely for the first time in days and days.

Every wound up nerve in his body unwound, his head was clear and he hadn't locked the door behind him.

Things were well and truly on their way back to normality.

Normality being the squabble that was now breaking out between Tony and Tim over the last cinnamon roll, lying innocently in the centre of the coffee table.

Habitually opening his mouth to scold them, he was beaten to the punch.

"Knock it off you two" Mike growled from his perch, "Tony, split the god damned thing in half and give the other bit to Tim."

Pouting instantly, Tony opened his mouth to protest.

"He's had _two_ more than I have, and-"

"Don't make me come over there kid."

Sulkily, Tony ripped the Danish in half and reluctantly handed the larger side to Tim.

"That so hard?" Mike asked approvingly, snorting as McGee's face lit up at the cake.

Rolling his eyes but grinning good-naturedly, Tony shook his head.

"Now I see where he gets it from" he muttered under his breath to the other three, who chuckled in response.

"What was that, Tony?" Gibbs asked sweetly, happy to have let Mike deal with their squabbling, but being unable to resist teasing the kid.

"Uhh…nothing boss" he replied hastily, turning his gaze back to the television hurriedly.

Mike grinned as Gibbs rolled his eyes in response.

You'd swear he brutalised them the way his senior field agent carried on.

Time passed amicably, and the large spread of food quickly depleted as the film trundled on.

Gibbs, who was partially dozing in his chair, was alerted to its end by the excited summary that Tony was now providing, all the while dodging the pillows that were being expertly thrown at him by Ziva in response.

Checking the time he grimaced when he saw it was past one in the morning.

He'd had enough experience of his four to know that they did _not_ do well without sleep.

Clearing his throat and straightening up in his chair, he smiled as four heads swivelled to him.

"Ok guys" he said gently, feeling a wave of tiredness come over him "time for bed. Beat it."

Despite the fact that they all looked exhausted, the predictable stream of protests came flying forth.

As he knew they would.

"Boss I'm not tired, I have at least two hours left in me" Tim whined.

"I can't even possibly consider sleeping until I've meditated" Abby groused.

"You Americans and your sleep" Ziva muttered.

"Boss I have the sequel to the movie somewhere around here" Tony pleaded.

Before he could open his mouth to dispel all these deep concerns, he was again beaten to the punch.

However, this time it wasn't to his aid.

"Aw hell probie, let them be" Mike instructed lazily from his corner.

Narrowing his eyes at the elder man, Gibbs shook his head.

"It's late, Mike. They're exhausted. They need-"

"To put on another movie, eat more junk and relax" Mike interrupted with a grin.

Growling slightly, Gibbs tried again.

"No. Time for bed. _Now."_

For the first time in a long time no one obeyed, all four sets of eyes instead of being trained on their boss were now being trained hopefully on their boss' boss.

" _Tell him_ , Mike" Abby wheedled; being the only one they all knew could get away with it.

Smiling fondly at the eccentric lab rat he had instantly taken a shine to, Franks turned again to a glowering Jethro.

"You heard the lady probie; you let them alone now, you hear me?"

Throwing his hands up in feigned frustration, Gibbs slumped back in his chair, knowing the battle was lost.

"Fine…fine. But _you_ can deal with them in the morning when they're cranky as hell" he muttered.

Grinning as he heard the mutinous tone in his protégées voice, Mike nodded amicably.

"Will do" he replied cheerfully, "put your movie on Tony."

Beaming, the senior field agent scrambled to do just that with an exasperated but secretly amused Gibbs looking on fondly.

The five soon settled down again, and the second film Gibbs had to concede was a lot better than the first and he was soon lost in it.

By the time the credits rolled around for the second time that night, he was however determined not to lose the fight about adequate sleeping for his people.

Tiredly reaching for the remote, he flicked off the television and held up a warning hand as the faint strains of protest began to waft up once again.

"No, that's _it_ now. Time for bed, go on, move it."

Grumbling slightly, the four began to obediently move it.

Ziva unfurled herself with a yawn and Abby quickly followed suit, as Tony and Tim began to drag themselves up from their floor perches.

Tony, the eternal optimist, tried once more.

"Can we just-"

"Tony…"

Sighing, the senior agent admitted defeat and bade his boss a goodnight, waiting patiently for Abby to finish squeezing him as he did so.

As the four gathered at the bottom of the stairs, Ziva suddenly shot a mischievous look towards Gibbs whose eyes narrowed suspiciously in response.

"Thanks for telling us _all_ those stories about Gibbs when he worked for you Mike" she crooned with much amusement in her voice, "they were very… _enlightening_."

With that, the four burst into peals of laughter and hightailed it up the stairs, conversing in low tones.

The more they talked, the more they laughed. Hearing the continued amusement drift down the stairs, Gibbs groaned and rubbed his hands across his face before turning accusingly on his boss.

"Please tell me you didn't…?"

Grinning unapologetically, Mike smiled his teasing smile.

"Sorry son, just couldn't help it" he laughed nonchalantly, much to Gibbs' mounting irritation.

Sighing in exasperation, Gibbs again scrubbed his eyes tiredly.

"Thanks for that Mike, really helpful" he growled, "I need them to still respect me after you leave you know."

Snorting, the elder man rolled his eyes in amusement, feeling another surge of pride for all that the man did for his now quiet miscreants.

"Aw shut up probie, you know that kids always want to know what their parents were like back in the day."

…..

A/N: I've actually reconsidered and decided to leave this story here, I think that its run its course and that a gentle ending was in order! A massive thank you to everyone for reading, I hope you've enjoyed! Thanks to everyone who reviewed along the way, really appreciated it!

Please let me know if there's an interest in a new story etc, and I'll try to come up with some more escapades for our favourite team! For those following The Trust Equation, new chapter should be up soon!

Thanks again guys, it's been fun!


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